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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609818">we freak on the cam</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep'>howdoyousleep</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettierAndYounger/pseuds/PrettierAndYounger'>PrettierAndYounger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(Not) Another Stucky Big Bang 2020, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Porn, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Camboy Bucky Barnes, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Talking Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, NASBB 2020, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Sex Toys, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, Sex Worker Steve Rogers, Strip Tease, Top Steve Rogers, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, daddy Steve Rogers, pornstar steve rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:14:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettierAndYounger/pseuds/PrettierAndYounger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bull. Fucking, Shit.”</p><p>There’s absolutely no way. His heart is very off-track, feels like it’s simultaneously in his chest and in his stomach, like it can’t find its way home. He feels his hands begin to shake. 40,000 coins. 40,000 coins. It takes Bucky a few more seconds to realize the significance of that number. 40,000 coins. He sits up, turns his head to look back at the sign over his bed.</p><p>40,000 coins and I’ll let you be my Daddy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020, Sweet and Gentle Steve/Bucky</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we freak on the cam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one has been a long time coming and lord was it a rocky road. I have never participated in an event before. I have never had a deadline like this before. I'm not sure I've been more proud of a work before? </p><p>My first half of my heart and soul go out to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettierAndYounger">PrettierAndYounger</a> for bringing my sweet boys to life! You were so patient with me and I couldn't be happier with the work you have done. 💖</p><p>The other half of my heart and soul go out to my Beta, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tj_or_something">Teej.</a> I have never had a true Beta before and let me tell you... the work she put into this vision and story is no joke. From the voice notes to the editing into the wee hours to the texts of just, "help", my entire heart and soul belongs to her. </p><p>Hope you love. 💕</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>  </em>
</p><p><em>hannah-stagram, </em>9/27/20<em>—</em>@thecaptain4 have you seen @buckmeharder’s show you two would really hit it off 😏</p><p><em>hbalbat, </em>9/27/20<em>—</em> @hannah-stagram omfg you are so right @thecaptain4 would take @buckmeharder apart so damn well. We need it!</p><p><em>arannarosie, </em>9/30/20<em>— </em>@thecaptain4 he would put up a good fight for you I for one would like to see it 👀</p><p><em>tae-withsuga, </em>10/2/20— It’ll be a cold day in hell before I stop fantasizing about @thecaptain4 and @buckmeharder getting together. What a wet fuckin’ dream, those two.</p><p><em>thecaptain4, </em>10/2/20— @arannarosie We love a good fight. You think a good spanking would do? 🍑 Would love to get my hands on that sweet thing…</p><p><em>solasnagealai-escapism</em>, 10/2/20—@buckmeharder! @thecaptain4 If you do get your hands on him plz let us watch, holy shit 😭</p><p><em>Buckmeharder, </em>10/3/20—@thecaptain4 so you’re the one everyone has been telling me should be my Daddy…</p><p><em>Seb-stan-lover, </em>10/3/20— @thecaptain4 @buckmeharder IT’S HAPPENING 😍👀💦</p><p>
  
</p><p>When Bucky brings his beer up to his lips, he makes a show of wrapping them around the opening of the bottle. His lips are cherry red and slick from nibbling on them persistently throughout the light conversation between himself and his viewers, and he’s sure they would look good wrapped around a dick. He hopes his viewers imagine his mouth being used in such a way, the bottle being the closest thing he has at the moment.</p><p><em>Ping. Ping ping. </em>The notifications roll in.</p><p>Bingo.</p><p>“Jenny, baby I missed you, where you been?” </p><p>His quickly-acquired Brooklyn accent is thicker when he gets to talking like this, gets to teasing. It isn’t purposeful but it works, adds to that charm of his whole image. He adjusts his position at the edge of his bed, leans back on one arm, lets his knees splay a little wider. The shorts he’s chosen to wear are a soft sweatshirt material, fall well above his knee, and show off his thighs wonderfully. His shirt is nothing to write home about, especially considering it won’t stay on for long. Navy blue, the logo of some college that is most definitely not his own. Comfy. <em>Boyish.</em></p><p>Everything within the frame of Bucky’s camera has a purpose, a casual reasoning. He’s sure the crisp white comforter makes his glowing skin stand out in a pleasingly stark manner, especially considering he spent time out in the sun the past few days. The candles behind him on his bedside table and his desk add to said glow, the warm cozy scent an addition that is pleasing and calming to Bucky. Strategically open textbooks, a mason jar full of water, and a pair of glasses are scattered about the desk. His beloved plants also give the space a homey feel, a pleasing aesthetic that Bucky feels belongs on Instagram but is here in his little peepshow.</p><p>
  <em>Anything to make Bucky stick in people’s minds.</em>
</p><p>Bucky enjoys these parts of his shows now, this soft opening that allows him to connect with his viewers, something he was fearful of as he began this journey half a year ago. The same people come back again and again, frequent fliers. There’s more than just a monetary exchange going on with some of these people. Bucky wouldn’t call them his friends, but he cares for them, wants to make them happy.</p><p>They <em>are</em> paying his rent after all.</p><p>&gt;<em>looking refreshed, buck. Fall Break treat you well?</em></p><p>&gt;<em>is Cap gonna fuck you? Saw twitter</em></p><p>&gt;<em>show us ur pussy</em></p><p>Bucky rolls his eyes as he takes another drink.</p><p>“Someone tell new guy what happens when you demand things from me. Sweetheart doesn’t quite know how stubborn I am, does he?” Bucky tacks on a wink for good playful measure. He ignores the question about The Captain even though it makes his tummy stir. He chooses to take another swig of his beer instead, avoiding the inquiries while he can. He can’t get distracted from his show right at the beginning; he needs to stay focused.</p><p>And yet, he finds his mind wandering back to <em>The Captain</em>. Tall, broad, beefy. Hair that looks like it’s been kissed by Midwestern sun, a beard that is meticulously well-kept, hands that could touch if he grabbed Bucky just right around his bitty waist. Unattainable. <em>Porn star.</em></p><p>After a few more minutes of making casual small talk, winking coyly, and some taunting, Bucky has made it to his first checkpoint. The first checkpoint tends to be his hardest to reach, most of his viewers wanting to drag it out and make small talk, get to see Bucky shoot the shit. He drinks his beer slowly, tosses around a lot of smirks, openly flirts with whomever he can. He may have to tease a bit, pout and lift up the hem of his shirt or slide the leg of his pants up his thigh even more, but his viewers get him there, submit enough coins to move him forward.</p><p>“I was beginning to wonder if y’all even wanted to see me with my clothes off tonight, makin’ me run my mouth instead,” Bucky teases as he smirks and reaches for the hem of his shirt. “You guys know I can do way more… <em>interesting</em> things with my mouth besides talk…”</p><p>Bucky is proud of his body. While it used to be quite lean, he has come to terms with his slightly curvier form. It has been an ongoing process, one with its ups and downs, but he has come to love the cute patches of fat that are artfully scattered throughout. His body still has those lines of natural muscle from sheer every-day use alone but he’s soft and a tiny bit squishy where it counts and he’s more than happy with his form at this point in his life. Viewers love it alongside the fact that he’s purposefully hairless and that Bucky has a peach of an ass that you could bounce a quarter off of.</p><p>It has viewers coming back again and again.</p><p>He always revels in the round of <em>pings </em>that come in when he starts to show a little more skin when he takes either his shirt or his shorts off. Tonight, he starts with his shirt, pulls it over his head with both hands and a sensual stretch. He tosses it carelessly to the floor by his feet with a bit of a flourish, leans and slips back onto the bed, leaning up on one elbow. He can see the line of his body on his computer screen, knows from experience and by looking directly at the proof, that he looks <em>good.</em></p><p>“You all know what’s next—get me to my next checkpoint.” He pitches his voice when he says this next bit, makes it whiny, “Don’t want these clothes on anymore.” He lets his hand casually slip down his chest, his stomach, allows himself one good <em>squeeze </em>at his dick through his dark-colored briefs.</p><p>A few <em>pings </em>roll in, probably newer viewers, ones that aren’t used to this time being utilized to draw things out for Bucky, to tease. Bucky knows he has to work for it, knows he needs to run his sweet mouth, and make people <em>want </em>to see him without a stitch of clothing on. When he closes his hand around his dick, tugs at his balls, he lets his head drop back as he moans, low and in the back of his throat.</p><p>“Know you wanna see me. Just a matter of how easy y’are,” Bucky teases, giggling as he squeezes his fattening dick once more before throwing another wink at the camera and pulling his hand away from himself. A few more <em>pings </em>filter through. Bucky thinks out loud.</p><p><em>“Hmm, </em>what should I talk about tonight? Any suggestions? I haven’t been around in a while, what with midterms kicking my ass. <em>Ohh, </em>what about the study break I took in the library?”</p><p>Bucky does a lot of things for people other than himself. While most of the scenarios they discuss during his shows are his own suggestion, they are rarely ones that are of interest to him. Most of the stories Bucky tells are in fact fictional. It doesn’t mean he can’t get into them, can’t find arousal in them, they simply aren’t his preferences. He’s trying to pay his rent, trying to send money home; he doesn’t have time to be picky.</p><p>A few encouragements roll in, agreements in wanting to talk more about this sexy study break. Bucky ignores the demanding and offensive comments that slip in between praise and suggestions. He isn’t bothered by them.</p><p>“Touch my nipples? You don’t play fair,” Bucky pouts with a whine as he just his bottom lip out playfully. Having a consistent set of viewers is a beautiful blessing and a curse. Over time, they come to learn what Bucky likes most, what gets him from Point A to Point B the quickest. They know when to tell him to stop, what face he makes when he’s about to come, what will push him over the edge. It’s intimate knowledge but Bucky doesn’t look too much into it.</p><p>“Frankie, you bastard, <em>oh,</em>” Bucky whimpers, easily getting carried away within three seconds of the fingers of one hand plucking at the hardening nub of one of his nipples. This is something he enjoys. He lets himself fall back onto the bed, arch deep in his back, very aware of his angles and the camera. The movement allows for both of his hands to have full access to his chest, tiny sparks of pleasure rocketing up his spine as he swirls and pinches both nipples between his fingers.</p><p>His dick twitches in his briefs and a couple of <em>pings </em>tell him that viewers might have seen the slight movement. There is an influx of <em>pings </em>the moment Bucky spreads his legs wide with a moan, fingers continuing to rub at his nipples. He lets a grin melt across his face, a familiar curl of fire warms up his gut. When he lifts his head to get a glance at the chatbox, what he finds is no surprise.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;buck did you see The Captain’s video??</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;We <strong>have</strong> to talk about The Captain, buck</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;he jacked off to your show last week. Come on, buck talk to us</em>
</p><p>Even just seeing The Captain’s name makes the fire in Bucky’s stomach swirl a bit, makes his chuckle sound much more like a moan than it is intended to. At the mention of the video, his dick <em>throbs </em>in his briefs, his brain going a bit stupid. This is better than any study break story he was going to make up and tell on the spot but he’s a little hesitant to discuss such a thing nonetheless.</p><p>Bucky knows they won’t let this one go. He feels excitement bubble up in his chest at finally being able to have an outlet for this build of eagerness. No one else aside from Nat can really comprehend the gravity of the situation, of his interactions with The Captain. Because of that, this is the only place where Bucky’s giddiness has validity and he should capitalize on it.</p><p>Bucky lets out a moan, from the back of his throat but pitched a bit high for effect, and drags his hand down to his dick. He surprisingly wants to skip the checkpoint, wants to slip his hand into his underwear and squeeze at himself without the barrier of cloth between him and his hand. He huffs as he grips and tugs at his dick through his briefs, gives it a good squeeze so people can get an equally good eyeful.</p><p>“Get me to this next fuckin’ checkpoint and I’ll talk all about The Captain and that… <em>fuck, </em>that video. <em>Please…</em>”</p><p>The <em>pings </em>roll in immediately and at an incredibly rapid pace. It makes Bucky giggle into his moan as he kneads at his balls, gives the viewers enough time to watch him play with himself, tease himself. This won’t be a long show, he’s certain of it. He’s as hard as a rock and feels that added hotness in his belly as his thoughts drift to The Captain more and more frequently. </p><p>As he listens to the <em>pings </em>filter through the speaker on his computer, he reminds himself to not get carried away, that he still has a job to do. He needs to take the anticipation and course of events over the past few days and <em>use </em>it.</p><p>But getting a little carried away is justified and will probably help his cash flow, right?</p><p>His hips take a mind of their own once his hand leaves his dick, rolling up into nothing, fabric straining over his erection perfectly. Bucky plasters that look on his face, the one that viewers eat right up, the one that best resembles a pout and that makes them feel sorry for Bucky. He presses up on his elbows, looks down the line of his body, rolls his hips and humps up into the air.</p><p>“Wish I was wearing a plug,” he whines like a brat, longing evident in his voice. He tucks his chin, turns his head and sucks two fingers into his mouth, deepens his whine around them. He hopes that his gaze down at his own achy dick makes the viewers’ eyes wander there as well. He spreads his legs and his mind betrays him, tossing the older man’s video into his train of thought. The thought of how The Captain’s thighs looked spread wide, fist fucking over his cock as he watched Bucky’s video makes Bucky’s lip curl a bit, makes his hips stutter on air.</p><p>Bucky wants to come thinking about that video.  </p><p><em>“Fuck…</em> you’re almost there,” Bucky whimpers in a voice that makes it sound like he’s encouraging someone to fuck him harder, to make him come. With his other hand closing two fingertips around his nipple, he mewls around his fingers, kicks his hips up in a mess of a movement. He’s impatient now, glances down at his computer screen and sees that they aren’t far off from their goal, sees that his comment box is still lighting up like crazy. He considers reaching for his dildo but reels himself in before his hand reaches for it; he’s not that desperate. </p><p>Instead, he drops his head back into his pillow, pinches his nipple rather harshly, gasps, <em>“Oh, Captain…” </em></p><p>That’s the ticket. </p><p>He gets enough coins and <em>then some</em>. People are here for a reason tonight, Bucky having more viewers than he has in any past show, and that reason must be The Captain. It is so obviously The Captain. </p><p>Bucky is immediately shoving his hand inside of his underwear the moment he hears the chime signaling his level up. He moans throatily, leans up onto his elbow, watches the way his fist looks wrapped around his dick. His hand feels infinitely better around his dick than it did with fabric between it. His hand is warm and his dick is hard and his mind is reeling with scorching images from The Captain’s video. </p><p>Bucky has probably watched it a thousand times over and he will probably watch it a thousand times more. </p><p>Bucky’s shows have, as of recent, become less and less frequent because of school picking up, because of Midterms. He usually hops online for a show three or four times a week but lately, he’s only been able to have the opportunity to cam <em>maybe</em> twice in one week. People have access to shows he’s filmed in the past but he hasn’t been able to be <em>live </em>with viewers as frequently as he would have liked. Last week’s show was the first time in quite a while.</p><p>The largest motivating factor to make time for a show was his blow up on Twitter. </p><p>For months now Bucky’s fans have been trying to get the attention of the man known as The Captain. Being one of, if not <em>the, </em>most well-known pornstar currently in the business, Bucky’s viewers seemed convinced that Bucky is the perfect little Bottom for the professional. They think that Bucky would blow The Captain away, would be the perfect brat for him to handle. Bucky played along <em>once</em> during a show<em>, </em>one time, moaning and touching himself to verbalized thoughts about The Captain, Bucky incredibly well-aware of who he is. It had been fun, had brought in an extra handful of cash, but it also started to become a <em>thing. </em></p><p>Last week the nonsense escalated. The Captain responded to someone’s post, someone’s suggestion, and Bucky found himself on the receiving end of some Twitter banter, flirting, and <em>attention. </em>He got excited, played along with the attention and the tweets. They gave people what they wanted. Bucky was mouthy, The Captain was flirty and threatening in the best way possible. It was all in good fun. </p><p>Until The Captain posted a video of himself jacking off to one of Bucky’s videos. </p><p>Bucky didn’t even know The Captain watched his videos let alone knew he was a camboy. The video was very much an amateur one, in Cap’s own bedroom, in his bed, low light, <em>real </em>sounds. </p><p><em>“Gotta give the people what they want, yeah?” </em>The Captain had teased as he pulled his cock out from his shorts. <em>“Should’a listened to you all earlier, look at this fuckin’ kid, goddamn…” </em></p><p>Bucky had been a fan before but he was head over ass for The Captain after hearing him explain all the things he enjoyed about Bucky and his videos as well as all the things he wanted to do to Bucky. </p><p>
  <em>“Bucky, <strong>baby. </strong>Maybe I’ll stop by for a show next time, watch you in real-time. Won’t that be nice…?” </em>
</p><p>That was yesterday. Bucky hadn’t touched himself so much since he was a teenager. He’s surprised he’s hard now, hand around his erection, moaning as he tugs on his shorts a bit, shows off the skin of his hip. He says the first thing that comes to his heat-riddled brain—</p><p>“God, I’d let him fuck me.” </p><p>A plethora of <em>pings </em>roll in. He decides to tease his viewers a bit more, decides to pull his dick out of his shorts but doesn’t pull them off just yet. More <em>pings </em>roll in. </p><p>“I was… <em>fuck </em>I was studying in the library when Cap’s video posted. M’a good student, a good boy, had all my distractions put away to make sure I could focus on my work. Can you imagine what my phone looked like when I came out of the library that night?” </p><p>Bucky pants in between words and as he recounts his perspective of the course of events. He cups his balls, presses them <em>up </em>and then tugs them <em>down. </em>His moans become increasingly feminine as he lets them flow out of his mouth one by one. Whether the <em>pings </em>are a reward for his words or an encouragement to continue, his mouth <em>runs </em>now. </p><p>“Twitter banter is one thing, a few tweets back and forth, some flirting. Guys, I had <em>no… no fucking </em>idea that The Captain would post a video like that. But <em>god, </em>wasn’t it a good video? That <em>hand, </em>but… oh but that <em>cock…”</em> </p><p>Bucky spits into his hand. It isn’t his favorite thing to do but the viewers go feral for it. The <em>pings </em>are there to prove it. The slipperiness of his saliva on his dick feels <em>sweet </em>though, makes his toes curl. Saliva is nice but—</p><p>Bucky is almost worried he’s going to reach the next checkpoint before he wants to, before he can. When he grabs for his pillow, <em>that </em>pillow, Bucky’s ears can’t keep up with the <em>pings. </em>He chuckles a bit breathlessly, slots the pillow under his dick beautifully, sits on it. </p><p>“Cap said he wanted to see me work for somethin’ instead of bein’ a pillow princess. How about this, old man?” </p><p>Bucky’s hips roll down into his pillow as sensually as he can manage, but it’s messy. He didn’t even think to take his shorts off, just has his dick out, rubbing it off against the satin of the pillow. It’s slick, <em>so soft, </em>and it makes Bucky’s eyes fall shut, making the fire in his groin build, the flames of it lick up his spine. He thinks about The Captain’s hands on his hips, that mean voice in his ear telling him how pathetic he is, how desperate he must be to want to get off in such a way. </p><p>He’s so enraptured in his own thoughts, his actions, his <em>words, </em>that it takes him a delayed amount of time to realize what is happening. </p><p>When the noise comes through on Bucky’s laptop, he doesn’t even recognize it at first, doesn’t know what the noise indicates. It isn’t a noise he’s ever heard before, a deeper sort of <em>chime </em>instead of that higher-pitched <em>ping </em>to indicate viewers using their coins to push Bucky onto the next checkpoint. When he halts his movements to look at his laptop, his mouth immediately and dramatically drops open.</p><p>
  <em>TheCaptain has donated 40,000 coins.</em>
</p><p>“Bull. Fucking, Shit.”</p><p>There’s absolutely no way. His heart is very off-track, feels like it’s simultaneously in his chest and in his stomach, like it can’t find its way home. He feels his hands begin to shake. 40,000 coins. <em>40,000 coins. </em>It takes Bucky a few more seconds to realize the significance of that number. 40,000 coins. He sits up, turns his head to look back at the sign over his bed.</p><p>
  <em>40,000 coins and I’ll let you be my Daddy.</em>
</p><p>It’s his unattainable goal, the one he was told he should have up and visible <em>just in case</em> and as a joke. He does joke about it. He jokes about it with viewers at least once a show, reminds them that they can drop two grand on Bucky to be his Daddy, to get that private room. No one has ever done it, has ever given Bucky $2,000. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do but he needs to <em>move</em>, needs to <em>act. </em>He needs to keep his cool and not look a fool in front of hundreds of people.</p><p><em>“Oh Captain…” </em>is what Bucky hears himself purr and thank fuck for wherever that confidence came from. He tucks his chin, feels it tremble, reminds himself of who he is to his viewers, gives himself that self-check. He isn’t sure if it is a conscious decision, but he finds himself tucking his dick away and sliding forward, relying on his natural grace to carry him forward in a playful motion. He can see the chatbox moving out of the corner of his eye, new and unread messages moving up and out of sight at a rapid pace. He knows they’ll remain unread.</p><p>The position he finds himself in is one that shows off the deep arch of his back. His arms cross in front of him and as he turns his cheek into his overlapping hands, he finds a giggle bubbling up from his throat. This is surreal. He knows his viewers are on their toes.</p><p>“You <em>guys,</em>” Bucky mock-whispers, wiggles his eyebrows at his camera. “The Captain wants to be my <em>Daddy</em>,” he chides in a sing-song voice and he lets himself let a few more giggles pass in genuine reaction. He hopes it comes across as almost endearing.</p><p>Throughout their entire Twitter banter, their back and forth, he never imagined that anything close to <em>this </em>would happen. A private room? Video on video? With, not only an incredibly famous porn star, but the most attractive man Bucky has ever set eyes on?</p><p>Bucky wishes someone were here to pinch him.</p><p>He doesn’t have long to think, long to process. He needs to act. He doesn’t know how, isn’t sure of what exactly to do, but he needs to make decisions and do so quickly. He looks at himself in the camera, is impressed with how sexy he looks, back arched, face down, and ass up. It feels heady, this moment. His body is in a position that makes his head foggy with arousal, he’s been propositioned for an obscene amount of money to give a personal show to the infamous <em>Captain.</em></p><p>“I guess I have to go. I’m sure you all understand,” Bucky murmurs into his own skin as he slips his lips across his arm, his wrist. He sucks one of his own fingers into his mouth once his mouth reaches the end of his arm. It’s a small movement, a playful kitten-like one he gives the viewers as he rolls his hips back a few times suggestively. He can see the comment section lighting up. He’s never seen the messages move so quickly.</p><p>He shifts then, rolls forward to sit on his knees. He takes a centering breath before pressing the “Accept” button on The Captain’s offer. Bucky had already programmed his settings to automatically proceed to a private room <strike>if</strike> when he receives such a staggering and unrealistic offer. Another box pops up on the screen, gives him a countdown of ten seconds with an option to back out.</p><p>Bucky has never proceeded with a one-on-one and private show with anyone ever before. There has been talk of it, random people saying they’d offer but never following through. Bucky made a killing on a show once when he unintentionally centered it around what he would do for a viewer if they were to be in a private show. But he’s never had the real opportunity to perform in such a setting.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>Those ten seconds simultaneously fly by and trickle like molasses through an hourglass. In them, he still has not processed that he is going to see someone on the other side of his computer screen. He doesn’t make the connection that, after these ten seconds pass, he’s going to be talking to The Captain, practically face to face. Bucky isn’t prepared for how intimate this suddenly feels, how personal. There’s no one else here, just the two of them.</p><p>He isn’t used to <em>seeing </em>eyes on him, never knows the faces of the people who pay him to take his clothes off and touch himself. He tends to pretend he’s almost alone, letting the usernames he sees fall to the back of his mind, his focus shifting more to the fact that he’s alone in his own room. It eases his worries, more than he expected, especially in this moment.</p><p>The screen he is used to seeing disappears, the countdown box dissipating with it. Bucky can feel his heartbeat reverberate throughout his entire body, encompassing each limb. He’s unable to pinpoint where exactly his heart has run off to and he holds his breath, holds it there in his chest when the black screen flickers to—</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Oh, this man is—</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Upon seeing The Captain take up the full space on his computer screen, Bucky finds himself spreading his legs and planting his hands between them. He locks his elbows to ensure their stability, the movement forcing his body to lean forward a tiny bit in a sway of sorts. The Captain is gorgeous, even though the shitty camera feed. Bucky can tell immediately he’s someone who takes up space in every room and in people’s minds, just like he does on the screen.</p><p>He is masculine and <em>large</em> in every sense of the word and has a beard that makes Bucky’s insides go fuzzy with desire. His eyes drink Bucky in, wild and curious, blue like a summer night’s sky, <em>eager</em>. His hair is longer than Bucky had assumed, golden like both the sun in the sky and the wheat it provides for and grows back home in Indiana. It’s pushed back and out of his face but won’t stay there long with the way The Captain is laying on his side, head in his hand, <em>casual.</em></p><p>He feels a bit bashful but grins nonetheless, a second burst of energy building in his chest as he fights yet another giggle.</p><p>Bucky swallows thickly, tilts his chin back, lets his teeth dig into his slick bottom lip as flirtatiously as he can manage.</p><p>“Hi Captain,” Bucky murmurs, eyelids feeling peculiarly heavy as he hears himself say those two words. His fingers twitch where they lie between his thighs. The other man <em>purrs, </em>a noise so deep and yummy it makes Bucky want to respond in kind, deep and curious and warm.</p><p><em>“Hi, baby…</em>” The Captain coos, a noise that makes Bucky want to spread his legs instinctually, more than they already are before the older man is continuing without pause. “God, look at’chu. You’re just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever set eyes on, aren’t you?”</p><p>Bucky does whimper then, makes a pitiful noise at such a direct compliment, and the voice, <em>oh that voice. </em>It's rich and rumbly and isn’t in his face but it’s there and it almost makes Bucky’s teeth ache, he’s so aroused by it. The confidence makes Bucky’s chest constrict, makes him feel hot all over. His brain finally catches up with his body and he realizes he is quite hard in his briefs, fabric tented lewdly and obviously. He doesn’t do anything to hide it.</p><p>“What’s your real name, darlin’?” The Captain inquires, smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, and Bucky chuckles.</p><p>“S’actually Bucky.”</p><p>“No shit? That’s cute; suits you,” and it’s incredibly <em>dumb</em> because this guy doesn’t even know Bucky, but he feels his cheeks heat up at the second compliment he is given within the first ninety seconds of talking with The Captain. Bucky relaxes his arms, feels his thighs follow suit. He questions what is proper and what is not in such a situation, how he should handle and carry himself.</p><p>“Thank you. You actually <em>The Captain?”</em> Bucky chides with a quick tip of his chin and it’s the other man’s turn to chuckle. It’s a warm noise, one that makes Bucky grin in kind. Bucky likes that.</p><p>“Nah, no. I mean, it was an actual rank but s’obviously not my name. My name is Steve.”</p><p><em>Steve. </em>Bucky likes <em>Steve</em>. It fits him, it works. Bucky wants to repeat it, wants to feel the name roll off of his tongue so he does just that.</p><p><em>“Steve. </em>It’s nice to meet you, Steve,” Bucky murmurs. </p><p>He watches with heavy eyes as Steve’s tongue flicks along his bottom lip before his teeth drag it into his mouth momentarily. <em>Fuck. </em>Bucky is almost grateful there is a screen between them, that they aren’t in the same room; he doesn’t know if he could handle their shared energy if they were together in person.</p><p>“You ever had anybody do this? Purchase that lofty goal there?” Steve asks with a point to the sign above Bucky’s head, behind his bed. Bucky shakes his head meekly.</p><p>“No, no one’s purchased… <em>that </em>from me,” he mumbles, nervous to say the words. Since when is he someone that gets nervous? He decides to powers through. “No one has wanted to be my Daddy I guess.”</p><p>For the nth time that night, Bucky pouts, gives his voice a whinier lilt, and dips his chin. It never fails to get him what he wants. Steve’s hum feels like a physical touch when it filters in through the computer speakers, one that runs right down Bucky’s spine.</p><p>“Well, that’s their loss isn’t it, sugar?”</p><p>Bucky couldn’t have conjured up this man from his dreams even if he tried. He is known for being a bit of a brat, for being a confident little thing that leaves people dropping money on him in hopes of seeing if he cares. But this man is going to ruin that; he’s going to make Bucky want to be sweet for someone.</p><p>Record this date as one for the history books.</p><p>“Sure is,” is all Bucky can husk out as he allows his eyes to take in more and more of Steve, unable to stop once he starts. There’s just… <em>so much of him</em>. Bucky’s eyes roam across a seemingly endless amount of golden skin, thick muscle, <em>tattoos. </em>Steve treats his body right, keeps it in peak condition, and fuck Bucky if looking at Steve doesn’t make him think about all the ways their bodies would feel indescribable together.</p><p>Bucky is greedy. He wants to see more, damn near scowls at the white tank top stretched across Steve’s chest. His eyes flitter up from Steve’s collarbones, his thick neck, to where they meet a knowing pair of eyes. <em>The bastard.</em></p><p>“M’feelin’ a little underdressed, Cap,” Bucky murmurs, tossing in a little lip-bite to tease. “Care to join me?”</p><p>Steve doesn’t even hesitate, reaches for the hem of his shirt, raises his torso from the bed momentarily and pulls the tank over his head. It’s a scrap of fabric in comparison to the size of Steve’s body. It shouldn’t make a difference but looking at Steve <em>shirtless</em> makes Bucky’s breaths get tangled up in his throat.</p><p>
  <em>You’ve seen him naked before, this isn’t anything new.</em>
</p><p>The reminder to himself, spoken slowly in his head alongside even slower breaths, does nothing to ease the ache between his ribs and the fading one between his legs. It also doesn’t ease the worry that bubbles up into the pit of Bucky’s stomach at what that implies—</p><p>Bucky is an amateur.</p><p>“Y’okay, Buck?” he hears Steve ask him, an edge of unease in his voice that even Bucky can detect. Steve realizes that something is amiss before Bucky does, his question, simple yet heavy, one that makes Bucky’s palms start to sweat a bit on the tops of his thighs. It’s a question that hurtles him back to reality, to the present. This is a man with a reputation, with a following, with a <em>career</em>. Bucky is just some college kid showing his ass on the internet trying to make money to spend on rent and to send home to his mom.</p><p>This is a moment where he feels himself being flung into his place on this nonexistent scale of importance, this place where he doesn’t feel like the hot shit his Twitter following hypes him up to feel like. He’s on the other side of a camera of someone who is worthy of being in this industry, who has made a name for himself, a reputation.</p><p>What an opportune time for Bucky to get sucked too far into his head.</p><p>“Hey kid,” Steve soothes, sitting up a bit in bed. “You’re alright.”</p><p>Bucky wants to whimper at the sight of Steve stretching and making himself <em>bigger</em> as well as at Steve’s kindness and eagerness to calm Bucky down. While it does soothe Bucky generally, hearing a hum of concern and those words, it does very little to help tamp down his sudden <em>feelings.</em></p><p>“Mhmm, yeah,” Bucky replies even though Steve hadn’t phrased his words as a question. It makes Steve smile softly anyway, this syrupy grin that, <em>oh, </em>Bucky feels himself get lost in. He looks down at his thighs, his naked torso, his hands. Steve’s grin and concern have unwound some of the tightness in Bucky’s chest a bit.</p><p>“Bucky,” Steve murmurs, and it’s all of the comfort and confidence and guidance that Bucky wants in this unexpected moment. “You comfortable? Do you wanna put some clothes on?”</p><p>He knows immediately that he does. He is infinitely grateful for the security that Steve brings him and when he nods his head meekly, Steve hums again.</p><p>“Go on, honey get a shirt and come back to me.”</p><p>“Don’t—” Bucky starts to say, unable to stop himself, and when Steve raises an eyebrow, Bucky mumbles, “Keep your shirt off.”</p><p>Steve tosses his head backward and lets out a guffaw that makes Bucky momentarily grin so hard the apples of his cheeks turn into the part of his body that is the most achy.</p><p>“Whatever you want…”</p><p>He reaches then, right for the shirt he knows is next to his bed, tossed carelessly to the floor. It is a loose shirt, one that is too large, but that’s the point. It shows off more of his shoulder than strictly necessary and it is meant to make the viewer feel like Bucky is wearing one of their own shirts; it’s a partner’s shirt.</p><p>“You just keep gettin’ sweeter and sweeter don’t you, Bucky?” Steve rhetorically murmurs after Bucky slips the shirt over his head, lets it fall around his waist, atop his thighs. When he settles back onto the bed properly, he sits with his legs crossed, a little more informal yet still relaxed. He tells himself he doesn’t need to second-guess the way he is sitting with Steve.</p><p>Bucky starts worrying that he has quickly ruined this entire experience for the both of them when Steve smiles at him, tips his head, and asks, “How was your day, Bucky?”</p><p>Talking, yes. Bucky can do this. It’s a bit domestic but it is pulling Bucky from his head as the seconds pass by.</p><p>“It was… good. Fridays are nice days for me. Two morning classes and then I can head home and unwind. How… how about you? Good day?”</p><p>This is weird, right? Talking about his day with Steve like this? It feels like they should be on a date and sitting across a table from one another after they’ve ordered their drinks. Steve’s face tells him otherwise though, that this is acceptable between the two of them. His features are open and calm and as Steve tucks his finger under his chin to listen to Bucky. It’s almost endearing.</p><p>“Good day, yeah. Got the day off, the week off actually. Took my dog for a walk, went to see my mama, tucked in to watch the pretty young thing that’s been on my mind making the internet drool…”</p><p>Bucky can’t stop it, the way he preens and purrs into such a hefty compliment. It takes him by surprise, makes a bubble of a noise leave his mouth in the form of, <em>“Steve…!” </em>His tummy feels nice, <em>warm, </em>and his hand moves to rub his arm instinctively. He must be blushing, there’s no way around it.</p><p>“So you really are in school? Not just a part of some act in order to get people’s pants tighter?” Steve chides perfectly, moving on, and Bucky almost snorts.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m in college. Got the bills to prove it.”</p><p>“You mind me askin’ what you’re studying?”</p><p>Bucky’s heart always goes a bit erratic when he gets asked this question, even almost two years in.</p><p>“Fashion Design,” he says with practiced confidence, watching Steve’s face as he says those two words out loud. People always seem to be surprised yet Steve seems unfazed. A little glimmer of relief flutters amongst the butterflies in Bucky’s stomach.</p><p>“Yeah?” Steve presses with ease. “How come?”</p><p>“How come what?” Bucky asks stupidly.</p><p>“Why’d you choose Fashion Design, Bucky?”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>Bucky doesn’t usually get to this point albeit the natural next step in a conversation. He always knows what he <em>would </em>say, is always at the ready with what points he would use as justification but very few people ever take him up on hearing why Bucky chose the career path that he did. Well… until now.</p><p>“My… my grandmother,” Bucky starts softly, gives himself over to the moment and the vulnerability that comes with it. “When I was younger, she taught me how to sew, taught me how to work with a needle. She explained to me the importance of your self-image and the pride you can gain from creating the things you put on your body. She told me I had the sharp eye and the steady hand for what it took to turn heads.”</p><p>When Bucky looks up from his twiddling thumbs Steve is smiling at him.</p><p>“There’s somethin’ pretty nice about creating something that is my own but that brings someone so much confidence for their own reasons, ya know?”</p><p>Steve doesn’t answer for a few seconds, eventually hums and murmurs, “I don’t know about that, Buck... but that sounds pretty fucking amazing. Wouldn’t have guessed that but then again… haven’t seen you in a lot of clothing really.”</p><p>Bucky’s cheeks burn red, but it’s a warm feeling, something nice that settles onto the base of his neck, comforting. He likes knowing Steve has seen and enjoys the way Bucky looks, even now under this baggy shirt. He feels some of his frightened-away confidence slip through his veins once more.</p><p>“And this? Camming? How’d you get here, Buck?”</p><p> “’Here’ could mean a lot of different things, Steve. Gotta be more specific,” Bucky mumbles, huffing out his own relieved chuckle when Steve scoffs playfully at Bucky’s sass.</p><p>“’Here’ as in behind a camera showin’ off your little body and your smart mouth. You’re young. Y’don’t <em>need</em> a reason but I’m curious.”</p><p>Bucky feels himself giving into this man far too easily, just the fun kind of trouble brewing in Bucky’s tummy that he tries his hardest to ignore. Bucky has never had a conversation like this with anyone he’s met on the internet, so personal, but something is telling Bucky that it might be okay to talk to Steve about these things.</p><p><em>“Uhh…</em> well I… you want the real answer or the answer I tend to tell people online?”</p><p>Just to be sure.</p><p>“The real answer if you’re willing to share it. Don’t need to be any kinda fake with me; I’ll probably be able to see right through your awful poker face anyway.”</p><p>Bucky hums.</p><p>“I’ve got… family back home. Dad died a few years back right when I left for college, v’got three sisters and a mama. Without Dad they were struggling and… I had to help.”</p><p>Bucky chances a look up at his computer screen, sees a look on Steve’s face he’s seen many times, especially on Natasha’s. It’s one that people give him when they don’t really know what else to say to him.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Steve whispers and Bucky’s toes curl a bit at this new nickname that Steve has gifted him with. Has he been saying it this whole time?</p><p>“No, hey it’s okay, we’re okay now. My roommate jokingly suggested that I take feet pics and sell them and it kinda inadvertently ran from there. Was slow goin’ for a while but then I picked up speed, not sure why really. And here we are—a struggling college student showing his ass to the world in order to pay his bills.”</p><p>Steve’s chuckle comes from his belly, Bucky can tell, and it makes Bucky want to roll over and show his own to Steve in kind.</p><p>“Well, an interesting and backwards way of getting here but thank god you’re blessin’ us the way that you are, sweetheart.”</p><p>In this moment, Bucky is quick to think that his decision to get a little sexy on the internet is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. He finds himself tucking his chin again, wallowing in the immediate and fuzzy feelings Steve brings him. He isn’t sure he can do anything to hold himself back from falling head over ass for a man he’ll never talk to again.</p><p>“What about you?” Bucky asks before things can get stagnant and awkward. “What led you to being, oh I don’t know, one of the most well-known names in <em>pornography…?”</em></p><p>Steve’s smirk is coy, like Bucky’s words are a compliment, like he’s a bit bashful at Bucky saying he is the best in the business. If Bucky could lean in and press his playful chiding noise into Steve’s beard, his sharp jawline, he would.</p><p><em>“Steve,” </em>Bucky coos with a little roll forward. “You don’t think you’re the best?”</p><p>Steve may be blushing and that’s… that’s tilting the axis of Bucky’s world quite honestly. Steve shakes his head, brings his hand up to rub at his chin which draws Bucky’s eyes to the delicious way Steve’s pecs press together. Steve has tits Bucky wants to sink his teeth into. They look firm yet look like the comfiest place for Bucky’s cheek to go, to lay his head on that chest. Steve is hairy all over in that way that makes Bucky’s insides vibrate around in excitement and arousal.</p><p>It’s almost infuriating.</p><p>“Buck,” Steve starts like he is quite sure what to say and like he’s familiar enough with Bucky to give him a nickname. “M’no <em>‘best’</em> or anything, you shut your pretty mouth.”</p><p>Bucky doesn’t even hesitate.</p><p><em>“Steven!</em> Steven…?”</p><p>Steve nods his head with another tug of a smirk and an eyeroll.</p><p>“Steven! You are top tier. You have a following, a massive one. People love watchin’ you take your time with twinks until you leave them crying. You are <em>the</em> best of the best.”</p><p>Images, a barrage of them, flash through Bucky’s mind the second he’s done talking, a compilation of the plethora of different scenes he’s watched <em>(and re-watched)</em> starring the one and only <em>Captain. </em>He feels himself stir in his shorts, feels his core go a bit tight, at the recurring theme of Steve’s videos: a bitty Bottom, legs trembling, jaw slack, and Steve pouring on the praise as he takes what he wants.</p><p>“<em>’People’ </em>love watchin’ that or <em>you</em> love watchin’ that, Buck…?”</p><p>What a tempting bait that he isn’t ready to take just yet.</p><p>“Don’t distract me, <em>Captain</em>. I asked you a question.”</p><p>Steve’s eyes crinkle around the edges in adorable amusement, a sign of his age as well as how often he smiles. Bucky’s briefs tighten even more.</p><p>“Gosh, Buck where should I start?” he asks rhetorically with a loud exhale and a wiggle, adjusting as he thinks. Bucky watches Steve move, he has a natural confidence about himself. He has a body that isn’t made for clothes. Bucky has seen it before, has marveled at Steve and all of his glory, so it makes no sense why Bucky would keep getting distracted by it. He thinks it has something to do with such an intimate setting, the low light of Steve’s room, and the fact that they’re alone with one another.</p><p>A thrill runs down his spine as he reminds himself that Steve <em>paid</em> Bucky for this experience, that <em>this </em>is the man Bucky has been flirting with. This is the man that filmed himself touching himself to one of Bucky’s videos, posted it on the internet for the world to see. The sound of Steve’s moans echoes deliciously through Bucky’s mind. He’s almost fully hard in his briefs now and the minxy side of him wants to lift the hem of his shirt to show Steve the effect he has on Bucky.</p><p>“Well, uh I… <em>gosh</em> okay so I joined the military right out of high school. I wasn’t—”</p><p><em>“Wait…” </em>Bucky stops Steve with a chuckle of disbelief. “You… are you actually a <em>Captain?”</em></p><p>Steve flips his fingers and confirms, “Yeah, Buck,” as if there were no other explanation as to why his nickname was just that. Bucky’s chuckle turns into a full-blown and boisterous laugh.</p><p>“Fuck off, are you for real?”</p><p>Steve joins Bucky in his laughter, nods his head. “Yes, ya brat now hush, let me finish.”</p><p>Bucky kinda wants to see where continuing to be a brat gets him, but maybe that’s best saved for later. Steve continues with a dramatic flick of his eyebrow. <em>Sassy.</em></p><p>“I joined the Army right out of high school. Wasn’t really sure what to do with my life and it’s what my Dad had done so it just felt kinda natural I guess. Was…”</p><p>Steve trails off, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. Bucky wants to smooth it out with his thumb.</p><p>“Was in for a while, almost fifteen years. Did some <em>things, </em>got sent home after I got hurt, was honorably discharged and that ended that.”</p><p>Bucky wants to press, wants to push to get more information, but it’s incredibly inappropriate in a moment such as this. He can’t expect Steve to give him details, some seemingly about something negative, when he’s just met Bucky. Bucky doesn’t want to even think the words, <em>“Well, maybe later,” </em>but they bounce around his brain like a hefty pinball. Thinking about Steve being hurt or being discharged from the military with honors brings a heaviness to Bucky’s chest that he can’t quite identify.</p><p>“You… you’re okay?” Bucky mumbles, wincing at his poor choice of words, how insensitive they may come across as. Steve smiles softly though, easing Bucky’s worries, and Bucky wants to soak in the gentleness of that smile.</p><p>“Yeah, sugar—’m alright.”</p><p>Bucky wants to respond with words of thanks and gratitude but he’s hesitant. He’s only just met Steve and he needs to remember that whatever they share tonight is strictly transactional and nothing more. Steve is paying him. Steve is not dating him.</p><p>“Okay, question still unanswered. How’d you get here?” Bucky asks instead. Steve sighs with a cheeky eyeroll, lets the side of his face loll into his fist in a relaxed and comfortable manner.</p><p>“Well… I uh… I have always enjoyed <em>sex,” </em>and <em>oh, </em>the way Steve’s voice pitches low, still teasing. Who knows—it could simply be the word coming out of Steve’s mouth that has his own breath hitching. “Have always <em>loved </em>it, intimacy and bringing someone pleasure. After I got out of the military I was at a loss, wasn’t sure what to do, and I was getting pretty sad, but I knew I wanted it to be something for me. Spent half’a my life doing things for other people. It was my turn.”</p><p>“Hell yeah,” Bucky agrees emphatically, fingers toying with the comforter beneath him. If he doesn’t focus on something, he’s worried his hands are going to wander right to his underwear, right to his half-hard dick. He almost feels high, like he’s been slipped some sort of aphrodisiac. Everything that Steve does, Bucky wants more of it, has a hunger that will never be sated. The way Steve talks, the way he looks at Bucky with half-lidded eyes, his playful personality, his<em> body, that voice</em>—Bucky is high on it all.</p><p>“I don’t really have a fancy story or anything. Just started looking up places where I could get into the business, get some interviews.”</p><p>Bucky snorts.</p><p>“Black leather couch and all?”</p><p>Steve smirks knowingly, nods his head.</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“And the nickname, The Captain—your choice?”</p><p>Steve hums.</p><p>“Mostly. I like power dynamics and what better power dynamic than pulling rank on someone?” </p><p><em>Goddamn. </em>Bucky doesn’t even stop himself.</p><p>“Bet they took one look at you and signed you on the spot.”</p><p>Steve’s eyelids get a bit droopier and it makes Bucky want to roll over and show his belly off to the older man.</p><p><em>“Buck…” </em>Steve practically <em>groans, </em>tone full of quite obvious arousal, it making Bucky’s neck feel weak. “Y’don’t need to flatter me, sugar. M’already here, aren’t I?”</p><p>Bucky doesn’t understand how.</p><p><em>“Mmm, </em>that’s true but maybe I wanna butter you up, be sweet on you.”</p><p>“I can assure you I need very little convincing for… whatever it is you may want tonight.”</p><p>Bucky wants it <em>all. </em>The things Bucky wants lie outside of a video feed and a laptop camera. All Bucky can do is blush some more, ride the wave, the ebb and flow, of the natural confidence that comes and goes with Steve’s give and take. He acknowledges the impatient thrum that is running throughout his whole body, this familiar excitement of performing and flirting but also this unfamiliar combination of the connection and energy he feels with Steve. He and his body wish to proceed but his mind has one more inquiry.</p><p>“How… how’d you find out about lil’ ‘ol me?” he asks with a chuckle, but he’s already sure he knows the answer to that question. He’s almost too worried to ask the question he truly wants to know the answer to. Steve stretches his body out some more, almost fully on his side at this point. The sheet around his torso falls artfully to his hips as he moves and it’s naturally a tease, albeit an unintentional one. <em>Blasphemy.</em></p><p><em>“Mmm </em>Twitter, you know that, baby. Lots’a people all up in my DMs asking me if I’ve seen this pretty boy named Bucky and that he is exactly my type according to the videos I’ve been in, the people I’ve been with,” Steve explains, obviously letting his eyes wander on Bucky a bit before adding in a, “Think they were right about that.”</p><p>Bucky can’t breathe, but he asks anyway, “And… your video? Was it your idea?”</p><p>Bucky is coming to recognize the look Steve gives him when Bucky asks a silly question when there doesn’t need to be a question asked.</p><p>“My idea. Whose else would it be, Buck?”</p><p>“Just… I don’t know maybe it’s an act, a… something you’re doing for your job.”</p><p>Bucky wants to fling himself into the sun. Nothing like fighting against the way he feels like an amateur by stupidly asking the professional for validation. Steve sits up a bit more, back against the headboard. Bucky’s anxiety may be returning but he isn’t foolish; he can’t stop himself from watching Steve’s torso move, his pecs press together, the lines and curves in Steve’s arms and shoulders work to move his hefty body around with ease.</p><p>“You heard me, Buck,” Steve starts, tone somehow serious yet featherlight. “I don’t do anything for anyone else. This part’a my life is for me now and if I wanna drop an easy $2,000 to watch a gorgeous boy I’ve been flirting with on Twitter for a few days now get naked and make himself come while saying my name, I’m gonna do just that. This isn’t for anybody but me and you. Lemme be selfish, baby.”</p><p>Bucky can’t stand it anymore, feels like a furnace, like he can’t keep his eyes open or his head upright. Bucky wants Steve to be selfish, wants to be <em>used </em>in order for Steve to fulfill his wishes of being selfish. This is Steve’s decision, Steve’s choice; he chose Bucky. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>Bucky can’t stand it anymore. He whines, lets a playful whimper slip between his lips, a needy one.</p><p>
  <em>“Steve…”</em>
</p><p>Steve chuckles in response with an edge of meanness present that makes Bucky want to shout.</p><p>“Oh, ain’t that sweet. What’sa matter, Buck? You getting tired of me tellin’ you you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever set eyes on?”</p><p>Bucky’s eyelids flutter shut, his tongue feels thick in his mouth. He’s never let anyone see right through him the way that he has with Steve. He’s never been so transparent.</p><p><em>“God, </em>could never tire of hearing it but you’re full’a shit,” is what Bucky brilliantly responds with, voice breathy. He wants to rub himself silly all over his bed, wants some kind of stimulation in response to the things he’s feeling, this chaotic energy. Steve is quick to stop Bucky’s train of thought.</p><p>“You shut your mouth,” Steve says sternly, molten-hot desire pooling in Bucky’s belly at the tone. “I’ll just keep sayin’ it until you believe me. Now, you gonna gimme a show, Bucky?”</p><p>And just like that, the mood makes its final shift. It’s been playful, flirtatious, but this is deliberate. The way Steve’s eyes rove down Bucky’s form through his screen gives away just that, but then Steve is tacking on a husky, “Gonna show me somethin’ no one has ever seen, baby?”</p><p>All of Bucky’s pent up frustration and excitement floods his system in one crippling wave. He wants, just… <em>wants. </em>He wants like he’s never wanted before. He wants to give Steve a show that is both nothing like he’s ever given anyone and one that Steve will remember until he’s six feet under. It’s the <em>baby </em>that sends Bucky’s gut curling pleasantly, that simple pet name making him feel special and sweet. It makes him want to do naughty things and that’s exactly the energy he needs to impress one <em>Captain.</em></p><p>He shrugs his shoulders bashfully, sitting cross-legged on his bed, and bites his lip as his eyes snap up to look at Steve’s own. He hopes the move makes his eyelashes look nice; sometimes people comment on just that.</p><p>“You paid for one, didn’t you?” Bucky says in response, tone sassier than he intends for it to be. He second-guesses it and that’s something he doesn’t find himself doing often. Steve shakes his head quickly, hums before speaking.</p><p>“Want you to want it, want you to <em>want </em>to give me a show. Could end the night here and feel like I got my money’s worth outta you, honey.”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>People… people don’t usually treat him like this. Bucky is cocky and confident, but viewers are demanding and pushy. He’s used to his comments being full of lecherous requests and empty feedback but very rarely is he put in a position where he has a choice or say in how a night progresses. It is the viewers who have the true control over Bucky’s shows, whether Bucky makes that apparent or not, and to have the control so blatantly given to Bucky makes him a bit breathless.</p><p>Steve is asking him if this is okay. Steve is asking Bucky if it is acceptable for them to proceed, is asking for permission. Bucky grins into his bitten lip as he nods his head.</p><p>Bucky wants to give Steve a show.</p><p><em>“God, </em>you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you? Look at you. You gonna be sweet for me?”</p><p>Bucky arches his neck into the compliment. Steve has said that multiple times and each time those words come out of his mouth it feels like Bucky is hearing them for the very first time like he doesn’t receive compliments daily. Bucky likes being told he’s pretty,he has a cam show for fuck’s sake, but when Steve says it, it falls softer on his ears. He likes it, believes it when Steve utters those words.</p><p>He likes it so much he finds himself murmuring back a self-assured confirmation of, “I’m gonna be sweet for you, Steve…” He feels himself stir in his briefs, forgotten erection filling back up as he says those seven words, watches Steve’s grin turn a bit predatory.</p><p><em>“Oh, sugar</em>—would bet my life on that.”</p><p>Bucky wiggles where he sits, a slight involuntary movement that stirs his hips around. Another giggle follows and Bucky would think it’s a bit embarrassing, but Steve seems to enjoy it, grin broadening. Bucky doesn’t know what to expect, is on unprecedented ground, but he wasn’t expecting Steve to ask, “Where do you like to be touched, Bucky?”</p><p>Bucky is taken aback and that is apparently transparent. Steve purrs into his clarifying question. </p><p>“Bet you’re sensitive. Where do you like bein’ kissed?”</p><p>Bucky blushes. He feels it pool on his cheeks and down to the hollow of his throat. Does this man really have this great of an effect on Bucky already?</p><p><em>“Oh</em>, umm,” Bucky stutters, not used to such a direct question. <em>Get it together, Barnes. </em>“My… my neck.” He drags a finger up to the sensitive spot right under his ear and whispers, “Here.”</p><p>Steve opens his mouth to speak, to respond in a rumble Bucky is sure, but Bucky makes an aborted noise and interrupts him.</p><p>“And… and my chest. And I really like kissing. I could make out with someone for hours,” Bucky explains in a hushed voice, ends it with a soft laugh at such a confession. It feels like one at least, him not used to divulging such personal information to someone who Bucky should be considering a stranger. Steve doesn’t feel like a stranger though, but that may be Bucky being naïve.</p><p>The pleased little moan that Steve gives him makes Bucky feel much less embarrassed about such confessions.</p><p><em>“God, </em>with a mouth like that I bet that happens without even meaning for it to, sugar,” Steve comments with very apparent thirst in his voice. He runs his hand down and across his mouth as he does so, fingers swiping down his bearded chin. “And I bet you bruise like a peach too, real soft. You like bein’ marked up?”</p><p>Bucky whines, quiet and low in his throat. He hopes Steve can hear him because he <em>does </em>like being marked up. He likes having spots on his body that are a bit more tender than other parts, proof of someone’s touch. He enjoys feeling claimed in such a way. He nods his head a bit playfully, leans forward, and puts his hands between his legs.</p><p><em>“Mhmm</em>, yeah like ‘em on the inside of my thighs. Get them real easy on my neck so you’d need to make sure and be careful with me, Captain.”</p><p><em>“Oh, honey</em>—I’d be so good to you. But once I get my hands on you, you bet your sweet ass I’m leavin’ marks.”</p><p>
  <em>Perfect.</em>
</p><p>Bucky watches Steve’s face, watches his eyes drink Bucky in as he shifts to sit with his legs under him, more to the side. The position does wonders to his hips, accentuates them, and elongates his torso. He catches a glimpse of himself in the smaller frame on the screen and smirks; he looks good, but Steve’s expression could have told him that.</p><p>“You know, Buck…” Steve starts and Bucky can immediately tell the night is about to progress by that tone. “I think I wanna see all’a you. You wanna show me?”</p><p>Bucky feels his heart kick up into his throat, which is odd considering he shows his naked body to strangers on the internet at least three times a week. Granted, never a private show, but Bucky is confident in his body. Steve being sweet on him is doing things to him. He must hesitate for more than Steve is comfortable with because he’s clearing his throat a bit, waving his hand.</p><p>“Buck, you don’t have to. I want you to know that; don’t feel like there are any added pressures because of money or because of what anyone else thinks or… or because of me. Want you to be comfortable. Want you to feel good about your decisions.”</p><p>Bucky might be in love. He knows his hesitations are valid, knows that it’s okay that he has them, but they feel so insignificant when Steve is ensuring Bucky’s safety, consent, and enthusiastic acceptance. They don’t seem as heavy on his shoulders knowing that Steve is so… <em>lovely. </em>Bucky wants to play.</p><p>With a sensual yet swift movement, Bucky peels the shirt he had used to cover up with, both physically and metaphorically, up and over his head with grace. Steve <em>purrs, </em>a happy noise at seeing more of Bucky’s body, everything but what’s covered by the briefs he’s wearing. It’s nothing Cap hasn’t seen before and Bucky is going to take what he’s keeping from Steve and dangle it directly over his head.</p><p><em>“Captain, </em>it wouldn’t be a show if I just gave you what you wanted so easily,” is what Bucky chooses to say, voice scorching and low, startling even himself. Steve chuckles, surprised, and Bucky runs with it, this playful energy.</p><p>“I think you should show me what I’m workin’ with first, Cap.” Bucky sits back up as he speaks, adjusts, and slips his fingers along his tummy for a seemingly unintentional tease.</p><p>“Oh, baby. You’ve seen what you’re workin’ with,” Steve chides right back with a knowing smirk.</p><p>Bucky has. He’s watched plenty of Steve’s porn clips before <em>and </em>after he found out who he was flirting with so avidly on Twitter. He’s more than well-aware of Steve’s reputation, of his eagerness to eat ass and make twinks cry in the best way possible. He is privy to the way Steve works people over with a passion that has them squealing and referring to him as <em>Daddy</em> without even asking them to.</p><p>He is also well-aware of Steve’s… <em>manhood. </em>Steve has the fattest, prettiest dick that Bucky has ever set eyes on. So yes—Steve is correct in saying that Bucky knows what he is working with, but Bucky wants to see it for himself. He tells Steve just that.</p><p><em>“God, </em>don’t I. But you have to. Don’t fish for compliments, Steve. Wanna see it all for myself, wanna see it for… for me.”</p><p>Why can’t Bucky say <em>“hard”</em>? Since when has he been someone that struggles to spout filth? Steve notices as well.</p><p>“Aww Buck, baby. You can do better than that,” Steve teases and Bucky tries to not get too distracted by the implication that Steve has in fact seen and heard Bucky do a better job at asking for what he wants. Bucky knows how to work what he has, knows how to be a manipulative little shit, but he’s more than a bit hesitant to move to the next step. </p><p>They’ve been dancing around the word all evening, this unspoken dynamic. Bucky knows what Steve likes in his videos, knows how he loses some control when he hears this word. It’s the whole reason they’re here; Steve paid for something specific, paid for a certain experience. </p><p>Steve paid to be Bucky’s <em>Daddy</em>. </p><p>Bucky wants to say it, longs to say it, whines with the urge to do just that. He rocks his hips as he thinks, familiar with moving sensually while thinking of his next step. His mouth waters with <em>want</em>. He wants this for himself, selfishly wants to be the first one to drop the word. He’s going to use it, going to say it. He drops his voice, knows how to make it sound sweet and fucked-out, inhales and takes that leap and—</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy…”</em>
</p><p><em>Oh </em>and there it is. That’s sweet, that’s <em>everything,</em> the way Steve’s mouth drops open in surprise. That word coming out of Bucky’s mouth in such a way, rolling off his tongue, feels even sweeter.</p><p>“Wanna see your cock…”</p><p>“Use your manners,” is what Steve comes back at him with instantly and Bucky can almost <em>feel </em>the way Steve would take a hold of and shake Bucky’s chin if he were here in person. It makes Bucky whimper, an angry noise, makes him feel like he gives over a little more control. He sees Steve’s hand move under the sheet draped around his waist and—</p><p>“You’re not wearing… anything?”</p><p>Steve scoffs, “Buck… you think I wanna have anything between my hand and my dick when I’m watchin’ you put on a show?”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>Bucky folds then, his body slipping forward as he lets himself roll onto his front. It’s a much more intimate position than before, Bucky made more aware of his arousal, hopefully in a position that makes him look more visually appealing when he’s asking to see Steve’s dick. Knowing Steve is naked is… <em>heady. </em>It ratchets up the eroticism of this moment they’re sharing.</p><p>He feigns a bit of humiliation, unsure if it’s genuine or not, and lowers his voice when he pleads, “Can I please see your cock, Daddy?”</p><p>This time it’s different. This time Bucky feels those words in his gut, feels them bloom and spread throughout his chest. He isn’t used to <em>feeling </em>what he does or says during his shows. It’s an act most of the time, each part for someone different, for someone else. This starts to feel like it’s for him and that’s… that’s new. It’s what Steve wants too and Bucky’s head swims with that combination.</p><p>Steve groans then, a hot happy noise, hand shifting under the sheet, out from the frame of the camera. Bucky’s mouth waters.</p><p><em> “Fuck, </em>you can have whatever you want when you ask like that, honey.”</p><p>In a flurry of movement Steve pushes his laptop away and pulls down the sheet. Bucky watches with hungry eyes, presses his hips down into his comforter, lets them roll and chase his pleasure a bit. Bucky gets one eyeful of Steve cupping and squeezing at his own dick around what’s left of that sheet before—</p><p>
  <em>“Oh shit…”</em>
</p><p>Bucky’s head falls to lean on his arm, tilted to the side. He doesn’t think he can hold it up anymore and doesn’t want to look like an idiot if he were to try. He’s moving before he can comprehend what he’s doing. It’s a dick, it’s just a dick. Bucky knows this. But <em>goddamn</em> Bucky is shifting and moving into a position to <em>take that </em>dick, spreading his thighs wide behind him, tilting his ass up.</p><p>He feels like an animal, like a bitch in heat.</p><p>Steve is above-average across the board, dick aside, but he’s just <em>so big. </em>Big shoulders, big hands, big thighs, big arms; why wouldn’t Steve have a big dick? Why is Bucky so startled when he’s <em>seen it</em> on this very screen before? It’s long, crown so pretty and distinct Bucky’s mouth waters with the desire to suck on it, to give it some attention.</p><p>It’s the girth that has Bucky grinding his hips down into the bed, seeking out any kind of relief his dick can get. Steve would have to spend hours opening Bucky up. Bucky would have to train to take that dick like the champ he wants to be. Bucky could come on that cock alone, he’s so sure of it. The cherry on top is that beautiful set of balls resting heavily at the base of his dick. Bucky can imagine and feel the weight of them on his tongue without trying hard. They make Bucky want to be sloppy.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Steve. How are you even real?” Bucky breathes into his arm as his eyes drink in the way Steve’s cock looks resting up against his stomach, hot and hard and <em>ready. </em>Steve’s chuckle sounds huskier than before and Bucky’s eyes dance between the way Steve looks down at his own dick and his dick itself.</p><p>“Are you shittin’ me? Look at you, sweetheart…” Steve huffs, and Bucky whimpers when one of Steve’s sizable hands comes down to tug only once, twice, at his even bigger cock. “One look at my dick and you’re humpin’ your bed. You sure know how to make a man feel good, Buck. <em>God...”</em></p><p>For some reason, the thought of Steve being able to witness Bucky’s constant and tiny presses of his crotch into the bed beneath him hadn’t crossed his mind. It doesn’t make him blush, but it does make him whimper happily. Steve is hard, is struggling to <em>not </em>touch himself, and it’s all while looking at Bucky, <em>Bucky.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Steve…”</em>
</p><p>“Would ask you if you like what you see—”, Bucky interrupts Steve with a scoff at the idiocy of the question but more so for how his gut turns at it, “—and I think we already know the answer to that, but I think I wanna hear it…”</p><p>Bucky moans at the immediate thought of the words that will come out of his mouth in the next few seconds. He won’t hold back, knows he won’t; he needs Steve to know his every thought about that dick.</p><p>“M’fuckin’ presenting, Cap—what more could you want?” Bucky husks out, popping his ass a bit as he tilts his head back up to the camera. Steve’s <em>face, </em>god he’s so transparently hungry, isn’t afraid of showing Bucky just that. With nothing left to cover up his body, no more sheet in the way, Bucky is free to let his eyes take in whatever he’d like, which in this case is… <em>everything</em>.</p><p>“I see that, Buck wanna hear it though. What’chu thinkin’ about? Tell me.”</p><p>Two words, one command, and Bucky is irritatingly quick to listen and answer.</p><p>“Thinkin’ about how long it would take me to bounce on that cock like I want to.”</p><p>This pleases Steve, the little curl of a smile tugging on his lips as he moans. Steve’s fingers reach for his dick, eager, and Bucky’s moan joins Steve’s own in unison.</p><p>“You’re so <em>big, </em>Daddy,” Bucky whines, eyelids heavy with thoughts of how good that fat cock would feel inside of him. “But m’so stubborn. You got some time on your hands? Would you help me, <em>Steve</em>?”</p><p>Steve groans. It’s a deep noise, one that almost startles Bucky with the way it filters through his computer, low and hungry. Bucky wants to hear that many times over the course of the evening, maybe even beyond that.</p><p>“S’my favorite part, sugar,” Steve informs him with some grit and a lip curl. “L’take hours gettin’ that sweet ass ready if you let me. My fingers and my mouth, maybe that there toy. We’ll leave you beggin’ for it.”</p><p>Steve tips his chin a bit as he speaks, acknowledging Bucky’s dildo lying carelessly to the side. The thought of Steve using it on him makes his head <em>swim: </em>images of Bucky in various positions, Steve’s voice basement-deep and encouraging in his ear, working that dildo in and out of Bucky’s willing ass. Bucky whines.</p><p>Refocusing his eyes back onto his computer screen, Bucky’s muddled mindset continues on, mouth watering as his eyes rove and take in all that they can. It only makes Bucky want to be able to see and feel and smell Steve in person more. He wonders how much bigger Steve is than him. He wonders what it would feel like to sit atop those thighs, both of his own lither ones spread over a thick waist. He wonders what it would feel like to have those giant hands grip his hips, encourage him physically with pulls and squeezes.</p><p>Bucky’s neck is flushed, he’s sure of it. He deepens the arch of his back, gives Steve a visual for how well he could take it, how ready his body is to be fucked, before rolling forward towards his computer. </p><p>“Want you in my mouth,” Bucky means to playfully whisper but it comes out as a needy whimper, a hushed desire, and he rolls his cheek into his arm to hide his blush. Steve <em>teases </em>Bucky, grabs hold of his cock with an angry fist and holds himself upright, spreads his legs a bit wider. Whether it is intentional or not, it gives Bucky the perfect view of Steve’s balls, fat and heavy between his legs. Bucky’s mouth waters, his own balls <em>ache. </em></p><p>“Get specific, Buck. You know I wanna hear those dirty words comin’ out of your angel mouth.” </p><p>“Wanna… <em>fuck, </em>wanna suck on your cock, Steve. <em>Daddy</em>.” </p><p>Bucky is tired of humping the bed, wants to take his briefs off and fuck himself already, wants to stuff himself full until he comes all over himself. Steve’s hum sounds more like a growl, a thrill running up Bucky’s spine when he hears it, and Steve looks down at his cock, up at Bucky.</p><p>“Show me,” he husks out and Bucky whines in frustration, pouts, “I would but we’re...we’re fucking—”</p><p>“Use your toy. Show me what that mouth can do with my cock, ya brat.”</p><p>Bucky goes to reach for his toy without even turning his head, keeps his eyes locked onto Steve’s fist, watching it slip up and down Steve’s cock loosely. Steve is a leaker, drips like a broken faucet, fat cockhead shiny even through the computer screen. Bucky wants to slurp him up. </p><p>“Want you to take those panties off, wanna see you, Buck. Gonna do that for me? Show me how you’d suck my cock while showin’ me your pretty boy parts?”</p><p>It takes Bucky out, striking a chord deep inside him.. <em>Panties, </em>asking for it, sucking on his dildo pretending it is Steve’s cock, <em>boy parts</em>—Bucky is cursing and whimpering, pressing his cheek down into the comforter and reaching for the waistband of his briefs within seconds. He uses a move he has before, ever the performer, and hikes his ass up so that Steve can watch Bucky’s <em>panties </em>leave his body, the curve of his ass. He moves slow like molasses, lets Steve get an eyeful of the top of his ass. </p><p><em>“Aww fuck, </em>there ya go, s’my boy,” Steve purrs and Bucky swears he feels like his soul is about to leave his body, swears he can feel Steve’s hot breath on his neck. </p><p>“En… encouragement really gets me going,” he hears himself tell Steve, and while he’s a tad embarrassed at the moment, he’s sure he’ll thank himself later. He does what he can to push his briefs down his thighs until he can’t push them any further without needing to move his body. He moans low, the noise one of relief as he soaks in the feeling of absolutely nothing containing his <em>boy parts </em>now. </p><p>“That’s perfect, sugar thank you. Love encouragin’ you. Bet you melt into a puddle with some praise, don’t you?”</p><p><em>“Fuck yeah,” </em>Bucky pants, nods his head, reveling in how featherlight he feels. </p><p>“Push your computer back, show me everything,” Steve demands eagerly and Bucky’s heavy exhale sounds like a chuckle laced with sass, conveying exactly how he feels. </p><p>“Stand down, <em>Captain</em>— this is my show,” he bites out in a sultry tone with a burst of confidence. He can’t help but giggle when Steve groans in what sounds like a bit of disbelief, a mean noise with no bite whatsoever. Bucky isn’t sure how much experience Steve has with not being in control all the time and he is somewhat thrilled at the prospect. </p><p>When he leans up onto his knees, pulls his torso back, his briefs cling to his angry dick. He makes a show of it, runs his hands down his chest, his belly, looks down the line of his body before glancing at his computer screen. At this angle, Steve is unable to see Bucky’s face, only from about his shoulders down, but he openly devours every peep he can get of Bucky. </p><p>And Bucky <em>soaks</em> up the attention. </p><p>“M’so achy, Daddy,” Bucky cries, so good at pouting and sounding pitiful, but this time he <em>feels</em> it. “M’so hard.”</p><p>Steve can’t see his pout but he sure as hell can hear it, reacts to it with his own hungry noise. Bucky tugs at the waistband of his briefs, lets the fabric pull taut and  strain around his dick. He whimpers, flexes his ass, and pumps his hips forward with his chin tucked watching himself. </p><p>“C’mon baby, lemme see, let Daddy see,” Steve encourages with a voice that makes Bucky want to moan so he does just that, right through his nose and high-pitched. He gives himself one last good squeeze, pulls his underwear free from the restriction of his erection, lets Steve see the tip of his dick first. </p><p><em>“Mmm, </em>there he is. C’mon baby, gimme what I want.”</p><p>Bucky wants to hear Steve talk to him like this until he’s gone from this Earth. </p><p>Just because he wants to, he says Steve’s name, breathy and soft, in the same way he says, “<em>Daddy”, </em>just as he slips his waistband down and tucks it under his balls. He’s startlingly hard. His dick arches up towards his belly, head red and furious, balls tight and full. He is no Captain but he has nothing to be ashamed of, knows it even before hearing Steve moan hotly, curse. </p><p><em>“Fuck, </em>you’re pretty all over ain’tcu, Buck? Goddamn, why you gotta be a screen away, huh?” Steve says in a breath, and just because he can, just because he’s a slut for it, Bucky murmurs, “Yeah? You think m’pretty, Steve?” </p><p>Steve, <em>god bless him</em>, doesn’t even hesitate, grabs himself at the shaft, <em>tugs. </em></p><p>“Oh, <em>Bucky…</em> baby. You’re beautiful, look at ya. Daddy wants to have his hands full’a you, wants to take you apart bit by bit, <em>fuck,” </em>and if Steve refers to himself as <em>Daddy </em>one more time Bucky might just come untouched right then and there. He’s seen Bucky naked before, has seen his shows, but damn it if he doesn’t sound awestruck as if this is the first time he’s seeing Bucky without any clothes on.</p><p>Bucky’s next few breaths are all moans, each one laced with both restraint and desperation. He sounds so mournful as he presses his fingers into the tops of his thighs, pumps his hips forward, his dick bobbing as it does so. He runs the fingertips of one hand up the underside of his dick, lets it jump for Steve, lets him tease himself. He moans like the hedonist he iswhen he reaches down to squeeze at his balls, tug at them. </p><p>He knows exactly how he wants himself, how he wants Steve to see him. He wants to hit Steve where it hurts, wants to make Steve remember this show, make it the absolute best he’ll ever have. With one final push, his briefs fall to his knees, to the bed. He shifts, moving as fluidly as one can manage when taking off their underwear while rolling from their knees and then around onto their back. When Steve sees that Bucky is rotating, turning to where his head is the closest part to the camera, he mumbles, <em>“Fucking hell…”. </em></p><p>Bucky smirks and makes one final reach for his dildo, falls effortlessly onto his back, and spreads his thighs slowly. The fire in his gut grows, spreads when he tips his head back and makes out the way Steve’s eyes dance like he doesn’t know where to look first. He makes the choice for Steve harder when he brings the dildo up to his lips. He sees the picture he makes on the screen of his computer and his heart kicks up a bit in his chest. He looks deliciously tempting.</p><p>He bats his eyelashes, gives the glass a kitten lick, a wet and open-mouthed kiss. </p><p>“Daddy…?” </p><p>It’s Bucky’s turn to watch Steve’s dick twitch. </p><p>“Yeah show me, sugar I’m dyin’ here. Show me what that mouth can do.”</p><p>It’s like it happens in slow-motion, the way that Bucky slips his favorite dildo between his lips and the way he watches Steve’s breathing get heavy enough to force his mouth to drop open some. It’s shameful really, the way Bucky opens his throat and sticks out his tongue, the way he takes a dick made of glass like it’s Steve’s. The arch Bucky gives his back is unintentional but <em>damn </em>does it look good as Bucky spreads his legs, makes it look like he’s bearing down on someone, <em>taking it. </em></p><p>Bucky tries hard, <em>so hard, </em>to not react to Steve’s own reaction to seeing Bucky deepthroat his dildo, but his self-control lasts approximately two seconds, breaks when—</p><p><em>“Oh fuck, </em>you’re perfect, look at that. Look at’chu take it. Gotta a mouth made for filthy fuckin’ things don’t you, Buck? Yeah?” </p><p>Bucky whimpers and nods his head frantically as he pulls the dildo back some, lets Steve watch it slip with impressive ease to the back of Bucky’s throat. He moans the moment it glides to the back of his tongue, a happy rumble, one that conveys just how proud he is of his slutty ways. He lets the dildo bob, pulse, there, lets his tickled groan turn into a gag and then a whimper as he gets too eager and presses a bit too hard. </p><p>Steve groans, grabs for his dick.</p><p><em>“Christ, </em>eager little thing too, aren’t you? Bet you can never get enough. You always hungry, sugar? Always wantin’ more?” </p><p>Steve’s hand is slow to move on his cock, as if his own pleasure is an afterthought as if watching Bucky and prolonging their experience together is his focus. This set of questions require an answer that Bucky wants to give verbally. With watery eyes he pulls the dildo out of his mouth, lets himself slurp a little as he does so. </p><p>“Can <em>never </em>get enough, always hungry,” he pants in a watery tone. He whimpers as he suckles on the tip of the dildo, lets Steve get an eyeful of his tongue, lets his lips get more than slick with his efforts. “You gonna gimme what I need, Daddy? What I’ve been waiting for?” </p><p>Bucky pushes down the natural moan that rises up through his throat as he watches Steve spread a leg, tug on his balls as if it were an afterthought. </p><p>“Y’gonna have to <em>beg </em>me to stop, sweetheart.” </p><p><em>“Mmm, </em>yeah? Y’gonna feed me good, Cap?” Bucky asks hotly before slipping the dildo back between his lips. He raises his arm up, whimpers as he tilts his chin up to make sure Steve can see just how hungry he is. Bucky is in the zone now, feels hot and horny and <em>wanted, </em>but he’s in no way prepared for Steve to say—</p><p><em>“Steve, </em>baby—Steve or Daddy. Say my name, don’t use some industry nickname.” </p><p><em>“Steve,” </em>he whines without pause, listening so well, and like a good boy does, repeats it with a flutter of his eyelashes. <em>“Steve…” </em></p><p>“That’sa good boy,” Steve praises, cockhead peeking out from between his fist again and again as he touches himself. Bucky wants <em>that</em> dick in his mouth, wants to suck on <em>that </em>Daddy cock and not this fake one, this glass one. The one between his lips is too hard, not big enough, cold. He wants one that is hot and fat and wet. He wants the one between Steve’s legs, wants the man attached to it even more. </p><p>Steve’s cheeks are flushed, detectable even on camera, mouth dropped open as he locks into Bucky’s show, his efforts. Bucky’s other hand comes to life, the throb between his legs far too great to ignore, and he mewls around a mouthful when he wraps his fingers around his own dick. He thrusts the dildo to the back of his throat, not aggressively, but he’s openly hungry. He doesn’t pull it back when he chokes. </p><p>“Tilt your head to the side, show me that pretty prick?” Steve asks lowly. It’s a demand, Bucky isn’t stupid, but he allows it, wants Steve to watch. A hand on his own dick and a fake one fucking his mouth has Bucky about ready to ascend from this Earth. He fleetingly thinks about how Steve isn’t even here in-person, yet Bucky might vibrate out of his skin with the energy they share through the computer screen. </p><p>It may be better that the two of them aren’t together face-to-face. </p><p>Bucky’s hand wants to rush, wants to make himself come, but he wants to draw this experience out more than that. He gives himself a few good pumps, humps up into the air, lets his hips meet his fist. Steve moans, so low that Bucky wonders if he even realizes he is doing it, that he’s purring like a cat. Bucky feels in-control, feels powerful. This man, <em>this pornstar, </em>is seemingly enraptured with Bucky, this college kid from Indiana who split for the Big Apple for school. </p><p>He feels in-control until the moment Steve pushes with a casual, “You gonna show Daddy where you really hungry?” </p><p>He knows the moment he shows Steve his ass, shows the other man where he wants to get fucked, he’s going to lose any control he had on the situation. When Steve hums and adds in a, “Gonna show me what’s mine?” Bucky can’t remember why he wanted to hold onto control so badly in the first place. </p><p>It is Steve’s, <em>he </em>is Steve’s. There’s no beating around the bush or avoiding it; Bucky is going to be ruined for other partners in the future. All the more reason to give himself over to this moment in full, right? </p><p>Bucky pulls the dildo out of his mouth with a moan, one with a slightly hysterical edge. </p><p>“S’yours, huh?” Bucky teases, kisses his dildo with a grin once more before setting it next to him on the bed. He can’t stop moving, wants to flow with the energy that is coursing through his system. He lets go of his dick, lets his palms skirt up his torso, his chest, brings his fingers back to his nipples. He gasps when he gives them both a pinch and feels his dick jump. </p><p>“If you want it to be, sugar,” Steve murmurs with careful ease that only makes Bucky want Steve that much more. “Once you let me though, it’s mine, <em>you’re </em>mine. I’m selfish, Buck and you’re so dangerous, <em>goddamn…” </em></p><p>Goosebumps cover Bucky’s arms. He tries his hardest to not be perceived as <em>easy</em> but when someone takes claim of him, becomes possessive, it’s impossible for Bucky to resist. This part of their banter feels like it’s veering into territory that is beyond sex and as much as Bucky desires that more and more, he pivots it back to a different focus.</p><p>“You gonna treat it right, Daddy?” he breathes before rolling onto his front, whimpering when his dick comes in contact with his comforter. His eyelids are getting heavier and heavier as the night proceeds and at the moment he’s struggling to keep them open and he bites his lip to keep himself focused. </p><p>“M’gonna treat it better than anyone ever has, Buck,” Steve says with such confidence it has Bucky’s exhale getting caught in his throat and bursts through as a groan. Bucky doesn’t doubt that for a second, has seen the way Steve treats other men in the videos he’s starred in. He has seen how Steve has taken them apart at the seams, seen the way he’s pushed them to the point of tears and beyond. Bucky doesn’t doubt that Steve is, even through his computer, the best he’ll ever have. </p><p>“Tell me what you’d want Daddy to do if he were there with you. How d’you wanna be treated, baby?”</p><p>Steve hasn’t stopped touching himself since Bucky brought the dildo to his lips and he doesn’t stop now, hand slow and steady on his cock. Bucky lets himself watch Steve’s hand move, watches with a mouth full of saliva. Bucky has yet to fall in love with a dick, but there’s a first time for everything. </p><p>“Want your mouth, Steve. Want your mouth on my…” </p><p>The word gets caught in his throat. It isn’t a word he uses often but it’s one he wants to use right now, a word that feels right. </p><p>“Your what, Buck? S’it your ass? Your cunt? Is it your pussy?” </p><p>Bucky almost squeals.</p><p>“That one, <em>that one</em>, fuck—”</p><p>“Which one? Say it.” </p><p><em>“Bastard. </em>S’my <em>pussy</em>, want your mouth on my pussy, Daddy,” Bucky confirms in a rush of a breath as he presses his hips down into the bed, shifts his body, and presses his cheek into the bed in order for Steve to get a better view. Bucky can hear Steve’s chuckle, a small sign of some disbelief and a lot of want, and the noise has Bucky pulling his hand up to his mouth, sucking two of his fingers between his lips. </p><p><em>“Fuck, </em>Bucky you’re a goddamn wet dream. That always your pussy?”</p><p>Bucky huffs, humps the bed without reservations, presses his dick into the mattress all because he can’t fucking stand how perfect the word <em>pussy </em>sounds coming out of Steve’s mouth. He almost makes the mistake of not pulling his fingers out of his mouth before talking, the shake of his head pulling his fingers free from between his lips. </p><p><em>“Uh-uh</em>, no. Not always. Now, yes. For you, <em>yes</em>,” Bucky explains through a whimper, a whine, turns his head back towards the camera, towards Steve. Bucky’s exhale is heavy, throaty, as he sets eyes on Steve once more. He’s so handsome, <em>so fucking hot,</em> takes up so much yummy space on Bucky’s computer screen. Bucky feels drunk as he pushes his dick down into his bed while watching The Captain touch himself, watching The Captain look right back at Bucky. </p><p>“That’s sweet’a you, baby. Daddy loves eatin’ up boy pussy, ‘specially one of such a <em>good boy</em>,” Steve tells him, drops his voice and makes it sing-songy, very much the coo of a Daddy. It makes the base of Bucky’s neck tingle, makes him feel the sensation of a level of arousal and sexual experience he so rarely experiences. He feels in his cheeks that he’s grinning around his fingers, hears himself giggle. </p><p>He’s turning before he can catch onto what he is doing. Whereas his movements were incredibly graceful forty-five minutes ago, they are anything but as he turns his backside to Steve for the first time tonight. He settles on his knees, lets Steve take him in step by step, slowly. He turns his cheek to look over his shoulder, Steve’s gaze adding to the headiness of the moment. </p><p>“God, when I get my hands on you, Buck…”  </p><p><em>Yes, </em>that. He wants Steve to talk about a time they may spend outside of this moment, <em>together. </em>Touching. </p><p><em>“Jesus, </em>look at the peach on <em>you</em>. Could get good fuckin’ handfuls’a you couldn’t I?” </p><p>Bucky takes Steve’s questions as a rhetorical one; of course he could get good handfuls with hands like that. He watches on as Steve rips his hand away from his dick, fists at the sheet that had been around his waist instead. Bucky pockets the albeit useless information that Steve sounds like he gets angrier and angrier, curses and grumbles, the hornier he gets. It makes Bucky feel more and more like a little minx. </p><p>Bucky’s voice is soft and sweet as he talks, eyes half-lidded, lips surely cherry-red and looking like they’ve been thoroughly used. </p><p>“Gotta be nice, Daddy. Gotta be sweet to this pussy.” </p><p>Steve’s voice <em>sounds </em>like he’s being mean when he growls out a sugary, “Gonna fuckin’ worship that pussy, Buck.” </p><p>His body yields and folds to Steve and to Steve only the second the words come out of his mouth. If there’s anything Bucky knows how to do well it’s show off his ass. As he falls forward he makes sure to keep his legs together, slips right down to his belly. From there he arches his back deeply, gives it a <em>ridiculous </em>curve, gives Steve one hell of an eyeful. </p><p>
  <em>“Jesus Christ…” </em>
</p><p>It’s a nice view, Bucky knows this, but he knows that if he were to spread his legs just like <em>this</em>—</p><p>“Goddamn, Bucky oh...<em>god, sugar </em>oh—”</p><p>—spread them wide and slutty with that deep arch in his back, he knows it’s the <em>best </em>view. He knows from experience and from the sensation that his balls look cute as fuck between his legs, pulled taut and dangling perfectly. He knows the way his asshole—<em>his pussy</em>—looks is drool-worthy, pretty and smooth and <em>yummy</em>. He can’t make out Steve’s words, doesn’t think they’re words at all, but the bratty side of him shines through as he giggles and leans playfully down onto his belly once more. </p><p>Steve grumbles immediately, something with <em>baby </em>and <em>beggin’</em> and Bucky goes for the metaphorical gold when he rises back onto his knees, arches his back, but this time he pushes his dick back between his thighs, squeezing them tight together. Steve gets it all, can see everything, and Bucky moans in satisfaction. He’s proud of himself. </p><p>“S’the prettiest boy pussy I’ve ever seen, Bucky. Gotta get my mouth on you, would eat that pussy out so goddamn good, <em>fuck.</em>” </p><p>“Know you would, Daddy. V’seen you eat other boys out, eat it like <em>you’re</em> the hungry one,” Bucky chides, reaches his hand between his legs, lets Steve watch him tug at his dick a bit desperately. </p><p>“M’so hungry, baby. So fuckin’ hungry…” </p><p>The progression is natural in Bucky’s brain, he grabs for the lube he places under his pillow before each show, pops the cap open with his thumb, squeezes far too much onto his fingers, and brings it back between his ass cheeks. He whines as he spreads it messily right over his hole. His whine turns into a mewl when he feels the viscous liquid dribble down his balls to his shaft, collecting at the head of his dick. </p><p>His forehead hits the bed as he hears Steve curse, as he smears and circles his fingers around his hole, heart rate kicking up and noticeable in his throat. There’s an edge to the air now, like the electricity between the two of them is chaotic, is crackling and mounting. Things have been incredibly slow and steady up until <em>this </em>point, this point where Bucky wants to come for Steve, wants Steve to make him come. </p><p><em>“Yeah, </em>you gonna give that hole a few fingers, Buck?” Steve gruffs out, brings Bucky’s brain back online and helps him realize he’s already slipping the tip of his middle finger into himself. Bucky simply grunts in response. </p><p>“My fingers are big, honey. Saw you lookin’ at my hands earlier. One of mine might be one and a half of yours. My cock is even bigger, <em>shit. </em>You gonna get yourself good and ready for your Daddy’s cock?” </p><p>Bucky can barely breathe. He gasps wetly as he slips his middle finger into himself with practiced ease. He is used to the bite of the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers, can press it inside himself with a hold of his breath and a groan. He thinks about Steve’s fingers, closes his eyes, and tries his hardest to imagine what just half of another finger would feel like. He whimpers. </p><p>“How’s that feel, Buck? Talk to me.” </p><p>Bucky whimpers into the bed before leaning up, extending his arm, getting a better and <em>deeper </em>angle on himself. He hisses. </p><p>“S’good, I want <em>more</em>, want <em>you,” </em>Bucky whines, tossing his head back as he slips his finger out and then in, <em>out and in. </em>Steve purrs. </p><p>“Want you more,” Steve counters with a comfortingly dismissive tone, follows that up with a hot, “That pussy <em>is </em>hungry isn’t it, sugar?”  </p><p>“Yes, Daddy.”</p><p>“Well, give it what it wants, honey. Give that pussy what it needs, show me,” Steve encourages with a tone that makes Bucky curl his head to the side, makes him bare his neck. He moans throatily, gets swept away by the sensation of being <em>wet</em>, of showing someone else, <em>Steve, </em>such intimate parts of his body in such intimate acts. When he pulls his finger out, asshole wanting to cling to it, he smears it around messily once more before slipping two fingers back inside of himself. </p><p>“There you go, Buck. Bet that feels so nice…”</p><p>It does. Two fingers are better than one, <em>not what Bucky wants, </em>but it’s better than one digit. He tosses his head back once more, gets greedy and dumb, tries to press his hips back onto his fingers. </p><p>“Pull my hair, Daddy,” he breathes, whines, no, <em>demands. </em>Steve moans in response and Bucky wishes he could see Steve, that he wasn’t turned around, but if he turns around there isn’t much of a show. </p><p>“Yeah, baby ‘course I’ll pull your hair. You want it rough or you just wanna feel?” Steve inquires and Bucky hears the telltale sound of a cap being popped. Bucky moans like a well-trained pup upon hearing it. </p><p>“Wanna feel, wanna feel, <em>fuck,” </em>Bucky mewls, his fingers digging and slipping in and out of his pussy. “Wanna be overwhelmed and you’d… you’d do such a good job overwhelming me, Steve. Holy shit.” </p><p>“Yeah, <em>mhmm</em> can grab on <em>right there</em>, right at the back of your head, pull your face up so Daddy can watch you as he fingerfucks you. Gotta keep you open for me, wanna see everything I do to you, honey…” </p><p>Bucky almost squeals for the <em>nth </em>time that night. He is both grateful and mournful over the fact that they aren’t together in person. The noise of Steve slicking up his cock as he speaks has Bucky’s vision going fuzzy, has him pressing a third finger into his ass rather aggressively. He hisses in response, whines as he adjusts, but Steve is quickly clicking his tongue. </p><p><em>“Hey now, </em>Buck. You take care’a my boy, you hear me? Don’t be hurtin’ yourself for anybody out there. Got all the time in the world for you, for this...”</p><p>Bucky growls, wants to bite and nip at the patience and slowness of Steve’s attitude and demeanor. </p><p>“But I wanna—!”</p><p><em>“Hey,” </em>Steve barks and <em>oh, </em>that’s a tone that Bucky is almost frightened by, he doesn’t want to disappoint Daddy, but his dick feels like it’s going to burst. He’s lucky he’s facing away from Steve so that he can’t see <em>that</em> as well as the way he’s grinning and biting his lip. He glides his fingers inside of himself and <em>presses. </em></p><p>“Don’t be a brat,” Steve warns but it’s so unfair when that <em>tone </em>makes Bucky want to keep being a brat. He does his best to look over his shoulder as he pouts. </p><p>“Just want you so bad, Daddy,” Bucky sniffles, his dick twitching when Steve’s harsh facial features don’t soften at Bucky’s groveling. “Can’t help it, m’so hungry…” </p><p>Steve’s hand slips down his cock, grabs it at the base, holds it out and up. It looks delicious and proud and <em>fat </em>and Bucky wants to sit on it. </p><p>“Turn around and face me, Bucky. You got that dildo nearby? Get her out, get her ready,” Steve tells him and Bucky is immediately groaning happily, pulling his fingers free from his body, smearing slick around his pussy just for the hell of it. He feels even sluttier on his back, stretches and rolls like a kitten, grins as he looks up and over at his computer screen. He feels intoxicated as Steve looks back at him in the same inebriated fashion. </p><p>“Want you to fuck me,” Bucky murmurs hotly, spreads his legs nice and slow as he speaks. When Steve rumbles, reaches somewhere out of view, Bucky whines and lets his head drop back onto his pillows. “Want you to fuck this pussy, Daddy. Want you to give it to me so good, <em>so fuckin’ good.</em>” </p><p>His mouth feels like it’s running away from him like he isn’t the one who is in control of it anymore. Bucky wants to be a minx, wants to be a little nasty, but his mouth wants to take those feelings and elevate them to another level, an even sluttier one. </p><p><em>Movement</em>, movement will help Bucky’s mouth keep quiet. He arches his back, spreads his legs lewdly, plants his feet. With Steve’s eyes on him, looking back at him hungrily, he lifts his legs into the air, coils them tightly together. He knows from experience that this position highlights his hole, draws all eyes to his pussy. He can’t imagine how it looks saturated and slicked up with the amount of lube he used. </p><p>He runs a hand sensually down the back of his thigh, over his ass. He lets his fingertips skirt across his achy hole, his taint, lets them swirl there. </p><p>“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Bucky. How’m I supposed to go watch anybody else or film with anyone else and not think about you, wish it was you? Huh?” </p><p><em>Too serious</em>, everything Bucky could dream of hearing. His heart is in his throat, the sweet words even making his dick throb. He spreads his legs in the air before bringing them back down to his chest, showing Steve <em>everything, </em>being vulnerable with him in a different fashion. </p><p>
  <em>“Steve…” </em>
</p><p>That’s about as far as that burst of seriousness shining through goes though because Steve’s response is to bring his hand back into the view of the camera, to show Bucky the fleshlight that he’d been grabbing for. Bucky bites his lip, is enraptured by watching Steve’s handhold onto and handle this kind of sex toy. It’s long and clear and <em>oh, </em>it’s see-through so Bucky can <em>watch </em>Steve fuck into it. That’s nice.</p><p>“You want me to fuck my fist or you want me to fuck this toy, sugar? Up to you, your show.” </p><p>This is long past the point of being Bucky’s show but he’s more than okay with the direction this has gone. Bucky almost speaks without thinking, reels himself in a bit. </p><p>“What...which one do you like?” he asks, reaching for his own dick laying on his belly, giving it a few good tugs. He can’t help himself, needs some sort of relief at the image that Steve makes on his computer screen.</p><p>“I’m a simple man— I like my hand.” </p><p>Bucky’s answer is obvious. </p><p>“Then your hand. Don’t do anything special for me, Steve.” </p><p>Steve tosses the toy onto the bed. Bucky grabs for his dildo at the same time. It’s cold again, very different from the Daddy cock that Bucky watches Steve reach for, start to stroke. </p><p>“Fuck me?” Bucky whispers as he drags the tip of the dildo up the curve of his ass.</p><p>“Go slow, sugar. Don’t wanna hurt’chya now…” </p><p>Bucky’s toes curl in the air as soon as he presses the tip of the dildo into his pussy, hole so slick from the obscene amount of lube he had used that the dildo itself does not require any extra lube itself. He watches through half-lidded eyes as Steve matches his pace with his hand, matches the dive of Bucky’s dildo with the slick grip of his fist. </p><p>“S’a tight pussy, Daddy. Itty bitty. Gotta go slow.” </p><p>Steve’s grip on himself tightens. Bucky sinks the dildo into his pussy more, gasps when it goes a tad wider when he feels the girth of it in his chest. He presses his legs back more, widens the view.</p><p><em>“Goddamn, </em>I bet it is. Daddy givin’ it what it needs, what it wants?” Steve breathes and it’s almost as if, for a brief moment, Steve is the one inside of Bucky. Bucky can almost feel Steve’s breath on his lips, his open mouth, can feel the way Steve keeps a hand on Bucky’s thigh, pressing it open and back, the other hand cupping Bucky’s neck. It’s the shortest of glimpses but it’s like Steve is there keeping Bucky open and sated and feeling so goddamn good in-person. </p><p>“Daddy will always give me what I need,” Bucky confirms softly as he reaches the halfway point of the dildo, pushes and bobs the glass greedily, makes it sink to the point where Bucky grows breathless at the stretch. He keeps his eyes locked onto Steve’s hand, on Steve’s mouth, his chest. The sheer size of the other man makes Bucky feel dizzy, a reminder that hits him in the chest as he finally presses the dildo into him metaphorically balls-deep. </p><p><em>“Yeah, </em>eat it up, Buck. Take it all. That cute little thing is so small compared to your Daddy’s cock,” Steve points out to him with a bitten-off moan and Bucky can barely stand it. </p><p><em>“No,”</em> is all he can whine back, pussy gripping onto the moving dildo with an edge of ferocity. Steve coos, mirrors Bucky’s movements, and fucks his fist a few deep times. </p><p>“Oh, honey <em>yeah. </em>Daddy’s got a big cock, you know that. D’have to train that pussy.” </p><p>Bucky’s dick drools onto his belly. He wonders if Steve can see it from where he is, through the camera, but he’s almost certain that Steve is quite preoccupied with his pussy. He gives himself a few deep strokes, pulls the dildo out to the tip, lets it sink and glide back inside of his pussy. The noises he makes are not intentional, are ones that feel like they never leave his chest but are feminine when they flow out between his lips. </p><p>He feels his brain go foggy, feels himself get somewhat stupid.</p><p>“Fuck it, Daddy,” he mewls in his most pitiful tone to date, one that even has <em>his </em>tummy turning pleasantly upon hearing it. Steve’s moan is bone-deep, alpha, hefty. The sound of his fist over his cock makes Bucky’s chest ache. The sound of him fucking his own pussy mixing and melding with the sounds of <em>that, </em>of Steve’s fist on himself, make Bucky’s eyes fall momentarily shut.</p><p>“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, m’gonna take what’s mine.” </p><p><em>“Yes, </em>Daddy please, <em>please</em>—”</p><p>“Long strokes, baby. Go a bit faster, give it to yourself good. Daddy won’t be mean but Daddy can’t help himself when his boy is so sweet, when he’s sweet all for me.” </p><p>Bucky listens well, has always been a good listener, and he speeds up his pace, his fingers gripping the end of the dildo tightly as he gives himself those long strokes like Steve requested. He can’t keep his mouth closed, can’t breathe properly if he were to shut it, but with an open mouth comes an onslaught of noises: whimpers, mewls, moans, bitten-off squeals... Steve tells him he sounds pretty. Bucky thinks his noises are somewhat embarrassing. </p><p>
  <em>“Steve…” </em>
</p><p>“Oh, Buck I know. Y’feel so good don’t you, sugar?”</p><p>He <em>does, </em>almost alarmingly so. He knows that there’s been a build, a long and grueling one, but he’s already on edge, already feels the stirrings of his climax in his balls, in his tummy. </p><p><em>“I do, I do.</em> Oh god, you feel so good, Steve so fucking good,” he whines and Steve responds with a growl of, “Faster, Bucky. <em>Deeper.” </em></p><p>His arm aches, his thighs shake in the air. When he fucks the dildo into his pussy it’s Steve’s cock in his brain, even knowing that Steve would be even <em>bigger </em>than this, that Steve would stretch him out even more than this dildo does. His eyes almost cross when he watches Steve move, push his computer back, watches the older man crawl onto his front, dig his knees into the bed, hand never leaving his dick.</p><p>He gets into position to <em>fuck </em>Bucky. </p><p><em>“Steve, </em>want… want you to fuck me, wanna feel you,” Bucky begs as he watches Steve hold himself up with one arm, watches him fuck his cock down into his fist. Bucky wants to be that fist, huffs in annoyance that it isn’t his own pussy. Steve grunts. </p><p><em>“Oh, baby </em>I know. Gotta get my hands on you, Buck. You’re gonna make me come through this goddamn computer screen but I wanna <em>feel </em>you…” </p><p>Bucky feels his core stir, feels the tell-tale signs of the last waves that crash over him before the final wave, before he comes. It makes him move himself, makes him lean up on his own elbow, the same way he knows he’d lean up and get into Steve’s face if he were over Bucky. </p><p><em>“God, </em>please I don’t know how but please. You’d… you’re so <em>big</em>, Daddy. You’d make me feel so small, so well-taken care of. I want your… your hands on me, <em>please.” </em></p><p>Steve’s groan sounds like it’s one that is punched right out of his chest. It makes Bucky’s hips kick up to meet his dildo. </p><p>“I’d never take ‘em off’a you, Buck I swear to <em>god. </em>I’d get you under my hands and I’d never let your sweet, soft, little body go,” Steve tells him, <em>panting</em> and thrusting his hips down into his fist, into his bed. He’s frantic now. If there’s anything that Bucky knew about Steve going into this evening it was how focused he stays throughout entire scenes, how his sole purpose is to bring someone else pleasure. This night is no different but in the same sense, it is. </p><p>The signs of devotion are there but they aren’t ones that Bucky physically feels. They are there in the way that Steve’s eyes never leave his computer screen, the way he watches Bucky’s every move, every shift in facial feature. His voice is another sign, the way he responds to Bucky’s noises, encourages him with his own noises and words. This still is not about Steve, screen or not; Steve makes this all about Bucky. </p><p>“I wanna come,” Bucky sobs, fucking and <em>pressing </em>the dildo into his pussy with a vengeance, with one last burst of purposeful energy. “Make me come, Stevie.” </p><p><em>“Oh</em>, Bucky want nothin’ more than for you to come, darlin’. Wanna see it, wanna hear it. <em>Wanna feel it</em>. You gonna be sweet and come on my cock like a good boy?”</p><p>Bucky clenches down around his dildo, whimpers and blinks back tears as he nods his head. </p><p><em>“Yeah, yeah, yeah</em>, gonna fuckin’ come all over that Daddy cock, <em>fuck</em>,” Bucky cries, looks down at his dick, does his best to look down at where he fucks himself, <em>where Steve fucks into him. </em></p><p>“Do it, Bucky. <em>Do it. </em>Come on, baby. Lemme see that pussy squirt, s’a boy, give it to me, <em>yes</em>—”</p><p>“Oh my… <em>god</em>, I’m coming! M’gonna—!” </p><p>Bucky frantically presses his dildo <em>in, </em>fills himself up to the brim, <em>shouts. </em>Steve’s grunts ring in his ears, fill up his brain. The hand on the dildo flies up to his own dick as he jacks himself off to push himself over the edge. He tries his hardest, <em>god</em> he tries so hard to keep his eyes locked onto Steve but when he feels himself start to burst at the seams his eyes roll back into his head. </p><p>Bucky shatters. Words can’t describe how it feels. He simply… <em>dissolves</em> into pleasure. He does his absolute best to stay up on his elbow in order for Steve to see what he has done to Bucky, how good he is making Bucky feel. His body feels like it’s on fire, pulsing with it, shaking with it, his come splashing onto his belly and chest making him feel filthy and <em>so goddamn good</em>. </p><p><em>“Goddamn</em>, look at’chu, <em>fuck. </em>Milk it, get it all, Buck. Do it like Daddy would, wring it out,” Steve encourages wildly, voice taking on the universal edge of an approaching orgasm. Bucky gives his dick a few long strokes, sputters and whines as he does so, whimpers out a pathetic, “Fill this pussy up, Daddy…”</p><p>He’s eternally grateful that Steve pulls back, leans back onto his haunches, and gives Bucky the beautiful opportunity to watch him reach his orgasm. </p><p>Bucky’s hand is still on his dick, is still pulling every little ounce of pleasure he can from himself, from this experience. He watches through heavy half-lidded eyes the way Steve’s whole body pulls taut before he’s letting out the most euphoric of groans and releases. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of Steve, of his face, of the way his mouth looks as it trembles, of the way his eyebrows crease together. He can’t stop himself from moaning when he looks down at Steve’s cock, can’t stop the way he basely wants that come on him, <em>in him. </em></p><p>Bucky has seen Steve come before, has watched it many times, but he realizes he’s never <em>seen </em>Steve come. In fact, he hasn’t seen someone come with him in… <em>months. </em>Bucky might be in love. Bucky might come again.</p><p>When Bucky lets himself finally collapse, he makes sure his computer goes with him, makes sure that Steve can still see him. His hand is sticky with his own release. He rubs it off onto his comforter, lets himself lay flat on his back while his chest heaves, while he takes in the immediate afterglow settling in. He hisses gently, whimpers, as he reaches down and carefully removes the dildo from his ass. He is someone who is very sensitive after he comes, where things need to be slow and steady before he is brought back to reality and the present. </p><p>“Buck?”</p><p>Bucky hums,syrupy slow to turn his head and look over at his computer, at Steve. </p><p>“You okay?” Steve asks him and Bucky doesn’t stop the way his face breaks out into a lovely grin. His fingers skirt up his chest.</p><p>“M’so good, Steve. Holy shit.”  </p><p>Bucky thinks he slurs his words but who can blame him? Steve’s demeanor is warm, his smile. He too is on his back, but much more propped up than Bucky is. </p><p>“That’s good, sweetheart. Great.” </p><p>“You? You’re… good?” </p><p>Steve’s lazy smirk brightens. </p><p>“Yeah, Buck— I’m great.” </p><p>Throughout the course of the entire evening, this moment wasn’t one that crossed Bucky’s mind. He pouted and huffed when thinking about how he and Steve didn’t have the option to reach for each other, to feel the other’s touch, but <em>this </em>moment, the end, had yet to cross his mind. He tries hard not to be sad, but there’s no denying he is. Steve has spent a silly amount of time making Bucky feel special and comfortable and wanted tonight. He’s made Bucky laugh and has comforted him when he needed it and he made Bucky feel pleasure unlike quite possibly anything he’s ever felt. </p><p>Bucky doesn’t want to turn his webcam off. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Steve. </p><p><em>“Hey…</em>” </p><p>Bucky’s fingers stop in their path they had been tracing on his chest. He turns his head back to the side, to Steve. He’s beautiful like this, in this post-orgasm laxness to his form and his features, in the glow of his low bedroom light. Bucky turns onto his side, puts his head in his hand to better take Steve in. Who knows if he’ll ever have a chance like this again. </p><p>“What are you thinkin’ about?” Steve asks him softly and Bucky curses himself for being so transparent. His knee jerk reaction is to go with his typical, <em>“no nothing” </em>answer, to suppress and deny as much as he can and deal with his feelings later. When he remembers it is Steve he is talking to he feels more comfortable sharing the things he considers to be vulnerable with him. </p><p>But what is he supposed to say to Steve? </p><p>
  <em>I have a lot of feelings? Most of them are for you? I don’t want to close my laptop and never see you again? Do you feel what I feel? Is this just because you let me call you “Daddy” and we came together?</em>
</p><p>Bucky isn’t sure he can open his mouth and have those words come out of it. </p><p>“Nothin’,” he whispers, clears his throat. “Just get quiet after an orgasm s’all.” </p><p>Bucky’s chest aches. Steve's smile doesn’t reach his eyes but he gives Bucky one, nods his head knowingly. The awkwardness that Bucky was worried about earlier in the evening creeps in now, embeds itself at the base of Bucky’s neck before he can do anything about it. </p><p>“So, what are… how are you going to spend the rest of the night?” Bucky stupidly asks, but Steve is still smiling at him, soft eyes, soft lips. </p><p>“Well, considering it’s… almost eleven o’clock, I’ll probably shower up and head to bed. You got any crazy plans for the night, college boy?” </p><p>“Right,” Bucky huffs, chuckles. “Nah, no… no college parties or anything.” He doesn’t bother telling Steve that he’s the last person to go to any kind of party or be around large groups of people. He picks at the comforter beneath his body. He’s afraid to look up at Steve, afraid that he’s going to get caught up in more feelings if he looks at Steve while he’s so sweet and soft with Bucky. But when Steve says his name, says it like he’s reserved that tone for someone special, Bucky can’t help but look up at him. </p><p>“I didn’t expect this tonight. This or… <em>you</em>. And I know it sounds cheesy but… I had a really good time tonight.” </p><p>It makes Bucky laugh, makes him giggle. He closes his eyes as he does so, lets himself enjoy the moment Steve brings them. When it’s over, when Bucky’s giggles subside, Steve is watching him with such a lovely look on his face. Bucky wants to wallow in it until Steve’s the one to tell Bucky to turn his computer off. </p><p>“I had a great time too, Steve,” he murmurs, bites his lip as he feels a blush reach his cheeks. Silence settles over them for maybe thirty seconds before Steve is humming. </p><p>“Alright, well…”</p><p>Bucky’s heart sinks before he can do anything about it. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah okay, umm…”</p><p>“I’ll see you around won’t I, Buck?” Steve asks him gently. Bucky can only hope. </p><p>“Yeah, Steve sure— I’ll be around.” </p><p>Steve’s smile looks a little sad, but maybe that’s Bucky being a hopeless romantic. </p><p>“Good. I’m glad. See ya, Buck,” Steve tells him, and then Bucky responds with a mumble of, “Bye, Steve,” and…</p><p>That’s it. Bucky’s computer reverts back to the home screen of the website he utilizes for camming. It’s jarring and bright and Bucky closes his laptop upon immediately seeing it. It’s nothing like the dim sensual lighting of Steve’s room. <em>The Captain’s </em>room. </p><p>Might as well refer to him as so now that their evening together is over. </p><p>Bucky isn’t quite sure how long he lays in his bed. It could be three minutes or it could be over an hour. There’s a process he goes through after completing each show, a process that never changes, that is somewhat of a ritual. Bucky doesn’t want to go through with this post-show ritual. He resists against the normalcy, resists against the tightness of his chest and the lump in his throat,  and instead makes his way to his bathroom. </p><p>He can’t get the water in the shower as hot as he wants it. He tells himself to care about the temperature of the water, tells himself that he needs to care about something that doesn’t have to do with Steve. He gets in even though he doesn’t care about the temperature of the water.</p><p>Here comes the moment where Bucky becomes frustrated with himself. He’s soft and emotional and doesn’t stop himself from catching feelings when he most definitely shouldn’t. He’s harsher with himself than he should be, physically as he scrubs his body clean of sweat and come and grime, as well as mentally. He berates himself with an onslaught of silly questions, of ones that just make him feel stupid for possibly falling for someone like Steve.</p><p> He can’t decide if he’s <em>fallen </em>for Steve per se, but he does understand and mournfully accept that this night and the way Steve made him feel will not easily leave him. He tells himself to forget it, to move on with his evening, to head to bed like he does every night. Suppress, push, bury. </p><p>The shower helps but it doesn’t. He’s warm and pink but cold as well, knows that snuggling under his comforter won’t make him any warmer. He towels off, pads to his bedroom. He ignores everything else, ignores the rest of the process of winding down for the night, aside from taking proper care of his dildo. He washes it with warm water and unfragranced soap, towels it off, places it in its proper place in his bedside table drawer. </p><p>When he pulls the comforter over his body, tucks it under his chin, there’s nothing left for him to physically focus on. It’s quiet, so much so that Bucky can hear the ringing in his ears. He wants to open his laptop to pull something up on Netflix but he doesn’t <em>want </em>to open his laptop.</p><p>He grabs for his phone. Too many notifications to pay attention to, some Instagram, most Twitter. He naturally and hollowly opens Twitter, heads to his Inbox. He shallowly thinks he can get instant validation by responding to a few DMs. But there’s one from Steve. </p><p>
  <em>There’s one from Steve. </em>
</p><p>Bucky’s pitiful noise gets caught in his throat. </p><p>
  <em>Buck. Here is my number. Text me if you want. I don’t like this feeling of not knowing if I’ll get to talk to you again. I hope that isn’t too forward of me. </em>
</p><p>Bucky’s next breath comes out in a rush, an awful wet one. Bucky doesn’t win things, doesn’t have any luck in this life, has to work hard for every single thing he has. He feels like he’s been passed up on all of those moments in order to have this one fall into his lap. He chuckles, pants. He rolls onto his back and runs his hand through his hair because he doesn’t know what else to do with his free hand. He can’t stop making noises, each exhale a whine, feels so stupid for caring about a DM as much as he does. </p><p>He pulls his phone back up to his face, goes to click on the number to save it and—</p><p>“Bull. Fucking, Shit,” he says for the second time tonight, shoots up from where he lies in his bed. </p><ol>

</ol><p>A 917 area code. </p><p>
  <em>New York City. </em>
</p><p>He isn’t sure if he accidentally presses the phone number or if he does it on purpose, but his phone is calling Steve before Bucky can stop it. It rings half a dozen times and Bucky just holds it in front of his face in disbelief until he hears a gruff, <em>“Hello?” </em></p><p>“You…!” he starts, realizing it’s more of a shout instead of a smooth reciprocal <em>hello. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Hello?” </em>
</p><p>“You’re… 917. Do you live in New York City?” </p><p>
  <em>“Who—”</em>
</p><p>“Bucky…!” he squeaks. “It’s Bucky.” </p><p>
  <em>“Bucky? Baby, are you—”</em>
</p><p>“No, <em>shh</em> stop. Do you live in New York City?” </p><p>Bucky is stupid and emotional and sensitive and almost tears up when Steve responds with a chuckle of, <em>“Yeah, Buck. I do.” </em></p><p>“Oh my god, you bastard, oh my<em>—” </em></p><p>
  <em>“Buck…” </em>
</p><p>Bucky doesn’t even wait, has felt so many stupid emotions in the past hour that he just rushes out a, “Steve, meet up with me. Meet up with me in person.” </p><p>There is silence. Bucky hopes it’s because he woke Steve up and he needs some time to make some connections himself and not because he’s trying to calculate how to let Bucky down easily. Bucky inhales, goes to speak. </p><p>
  <em>“Bucky, you live here? You live—”</em>
</p><p>“Yes, yes I live in New York City, in Manhattan. For school.” </p><p><em>“I live in Brooklyn,” </em>Steve states, and Bucky giggles, flips his hand as if Steve is there to see it himself. </p><p>“Yes, yes that’s what I asked, that’s what you said, yes.” </p><p><em>“Easy now, you brat,” </em>Steve chides playfully and Bucky feels as light as a feather when he falls back onto his pillows. Just like during their video call, there’s a sense of energy between them, something that pulls pleasantly tight in Bucky’s tummy. He fleetingly thinks they might be butterflies. </p><p>Steve is <em>here. </em></p><p>When Steve laughs it sounds freeing and light and Bucky can’t help but join him. </p><p>
  <em>“You mean to tell me… that I get my handfuls of you after all, sugar?” </em>
</p><p>Bucky’s whine is all saccharine sugary sweetness, is playful and happy and as pure as it can be.</p><p>“If you’ll have me, Captain,” Bucky offers in a husky and suggestive tone that surprises even himself. He can see the way Steve’s eyelids droop as he hums through the phone.</p><p>
  <em>“What are you doin’ tomorrow, Buck?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Hmm</em>,” Bucky purrs, his grin getting painful. Let it be painful. “Think I might be grabbing some coffee with a stunning adult film star…” </p><p>Steve’s laugh is one Bucky has heard before, has <em>seen. </em>His belly goes warm again at that fact alone, that he knows what Steve looks like when he laughs in this way. </p><p>“Yeah, think you might be, sweetheart…” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>😭💖😭 I can't believe it is over. I would love to hear your thoughts on this one. I am madly in love with you. <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/howdoyousleep3">Come chat with me on Tumblr.</a> 💕</p></blockquote></div></div>
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